


Wicked Games

by ariquitecontrary (ItsAriyanna)



Series: Wicked Games Series [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, Slow Build, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-11-13 17:05:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 74,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11189541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAriyanna/pseuds/ariquitecontrary
Summary: She's the world's most famous supermodel.This comes with a stalker who proves to be more dangerous than she ever imagined and a 24-hour bodyguard who's as serious as he is handsome.In a world where she no longer feels safe, Betty Cooper fights to get her life back and discovers all the things she had been missing along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WOW, I know what ya'll are thinking: ANOTHER FIC?  
> Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, this idea came to me and I had to write it. This is so out of my norm, I don't think I've ever written something like this before and I hope I do it justice. 
> 
> This is more of a prologue than an actual first chapter, so Jughead isn't in it. Never fear though, he'll be here soon. Anyways, love you guys and I hope ya'll like this. <3

You’ve heard those stories about celebrities who have been killed by their crazy stalker fans. It’s pretty rare, but it does happen. There are always going to be fans who tend to get a little too obsessive, a little too attached. Sometimes it’s fine. Sometimes this just means that they write you letters every single day or send you packages with used condoms or something just as equally disgusting. It wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, but it was to be expected when you were famous. It was something you were made aware of beforehand. 

Betty Cooper’s situation started with a letter. 

She was used to getting a lot of fan mail. It was the entire reason that she opened up a P.O. box. Being a widely sought after model would do things for your popularity, believe it or not. She never expected that she’d end up on a shitty informercial, so the fact that she was on the cover of fashion magazines like Vogue, Cosmo, Glamour, and Elle was kind of insane to her. Insane but very welcomed. 

She was used to the letters that she’d get in the mail about how much she was adored, if she could please follow a fan on Twitter, if she could check out someone’s Instagram page. She was used to people writing her and telling her about how she gave them the confidence to go out and do what they loved, how she saved them. Those were the things that she loved. She loved knowing that she could help people out in the world. She wasn’t exactly sure what she did to help them out exactly, but she wasn’t complaining. If she helped people reach their goals then she was happy. 

It wasn’t all nice, though. She’d also get quite a bit of hate mail. Her manager was good about tossing it out before she could read it, but sometimes a few snuck by and every time it was just as hard to read as the first time. Letters screaming at her for posing naked on magazine covers (even though she always covered herself), calling her a whore and slut and every other imaginable name possible. Telling her to find God and ask him for forgiveness for her sinful acts. She didn’t understand those people. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was her _job_ , her passion. She tried to ignore their words, but you can only get called a “gold digging home wrecker” so many times before it started to mess with your head. She knew it was dumb. She didn’t understand how she was a gold digger. She had her own money and plenty of it. She also wasn’t a home wrecker, she hadn’t even seriously dated anyone since she started modeling and definitely not anyone who was married, but she guessed it didn’t matter. People would think what they liked to think. 

Then the other letters started coming in. 

The first one was right after she started casually dating NFL football star Reggie Mantle. It wasn’t anything serious at all, hardly even a relationship. They’d mainly been on a few dates for publicity because their managers said they were an attractive couple. Betty went along with it. Reggie was a nice guy, funny, and really good at keeping up a conversation. It also definitely helped that he was super handsome. But that’s all it was, just casual dating. They never even kissed. 

That didn’t matter though. 

Some paparazzi got a picture of them walking around Beverly Hills while eating ice-cream. It was an innocent picture, nothing romantic about it at all except for the headline that was printed all over every news tablet that mattered. 

**NFL HEARTTHROB REGGIE MANTLE STEPS OUT WITH MODEL GIRLFRIEND BETTY COOPER.**

She could never really get over how the media was able to twist things so quickly, but she didn’t make a fuss about it. She knew this would likely happen when she agreed to the date. It was business. 

Her manager dropped off her mail to her on a Thursday morning. 

She didn’t actually open any of it until that Saturday night. She’d been swamped with shoots and she was looking forward to having a glass of wine and reading through her mail. Sometimes she wished she had just thrown it all away. 

The first few letters were the basic fan appreciation stuff and she smiled at the sweetness in them. She smiled as a girl wrote to her about her week and how her crush had asked her out. She laughed at a story that a guy told her about a first date gone wrong. This was a way that she loved to connect with her fans. It was refreshing. 

Throughout all of the mail, one stuck out like a sore thumb. 

It was a black envelope. She’d never seen a black envelope before and she was immediately interested in its contents. It looked like every other envelope in her lap, but for some reason something felt really sinister about it. 

Now she wishes she never opened it. 

Inside of it was a cut out of a magazine cover that had her and Reggie on it. Someone had crossed out Reggie’s face with what she had assumed was a dull reddish marker. However as she looked closer she realized it wasn’t marker at all. 

It was blood. 

“Oh, my god,” she gasped, dropping the letter immediately. 

With shaky hands she called her manager and begged her to come over immediately. 

They spent the new few days trying to find out who had sent her the letter but it was no use. There was no return address. 

She didn’t understand why she was so bothered by the whole thing. She was sure that it had to have been something that celebrities went through. She knew that fans could get possessive of their idols, but this just felt different. It felt wrong and really fucked up. 

When there was nothing left to examine and no further leads on who could have sent it to her, her team was forced to let the whole thing go. Luckily things ended up dying down. For a while at least. 

The next time, it was after a rather seductive photoshoot with another male model. She posed with male models quite often, it was part of her job and it didn’t bother her. They were usually guys that she met on the very day of the photoshoot and then she never talked to them again. 

The package was dropped off on the front steps of her apartment in Los Angeles. The only time a package was ever delivered to her doorstep was when it was a personal one from family members or close friends. The doorman knew this and so she thought nothing of it. 

She went into her apartment and placed the package on top of the island in her kitchen. She opened the package and pulled out the first thing she saw, which was a letter. It didn’t say anything on it except for a quote from the Bible. 

_Deuteronomy 22:22: “If a man is found lying with a married woman, then both of them shall die, the man who lay with the woman, and the woman…”_

The quote sent chills down her spine. She didn’t understand it at all. Who was married? Was this even meant for her? And who the hell would send this to her that was a close friend or family member? 

She reached into the package again and her hand enclosed over a hard, cold handle. With a shaky breath, and a racing heart, she pulled the object out and immediately started to scream. 

In her hands was a knife, but that wasn’t the worst part. The blade was covered in dried blood. She threw the knife to the ground, knowing somehow that this was sent by the same person who had sent her the picture of her and Reggie. 

Thirty minutes later, her manager was yelling at the front desk worker for not knowing how someone could sneak past him without his knowing. The police were trying to find any surveillance of who could have dropped off the package, but whoever it was, they were good. They knew where not to step in order to avoid cameras. It made her wonder just how often they frequented her building. The blood ended up being identified as an animal’s and she didn’t know if the thought was comforting or even more frightening. 

“We will find out who’s behind this, Miss Cooper,” one of the officer’s told her. 

“What if you don’t?” She whispered back from where she sat curled up on her recliner in the living room. She didn’t feel safe anymore. Her apartment was an open space, full of ceiling-to-floor windows. The blinds were closed on all of them now, but she wondered just how many times this person had looked through her windows and seen into her apartment; had seen her changing, doing the dishes, cleaning. Had they known her daily routines? 

“We will. I promise.” 

It’s an empty promise and that night she dreams of knives and hooded figures.

The third and more recent time it happens is the most random. 

Nothing provokes it this time, at least nothing that she’s aware of. She’s been taking a bit of time off, but she knows she can’t do that forever. She needs to get back out there soon. She’s spent the few weeks off of time with her best friend and Academy Award winner, Veronica Lodge. She doesn’t feel safe at her own place anymore and Veronica offers to let her stay at her house for as long as she needs. 

It happens when Veronica’s at dinner with her boyfriend. 

Betty is doing laps in the large indoor swimming pool. Swimming calms her and eases her nerves that never seem to go away these days. She’s all by herself, but she doesn’t worry. Veronica lives in a gated community and it makes her feel safe. 

The doorbell rings, loud throughout the entire house, and Betty jumps up in surprise. She feels panicked for a moment before she remembers where she is. Veronica always has random people showing up to her house. It’s probably just her agent or one of her friends, so Betty doesn’t think much of it whenever she gets out of the pool and covers herself in her robe before making her way to the front door. 

She’s both uneasy and wary when she opens the door and sees that no one’s there. She heard the doorbell ring, _she knows she did_. She looks around, but it isn’t until she looks down that she sees a small rectangular box on the doormat. She picks it up and gulps as she sees that it’s her name written across the box. 

She considers chucking it in the garbage, but remembers where she is. There’s no way her creepy stalker was able to figure out where she’s been staying or where Veronica lives. 

She closes the door and locks it before going to sit in front of Veronica’s fireplace. She opens the box and this time, when she sees the contents inside of it, she doesn’t scream. 

It’s full of pictures of her. Not just any kind of pictures though; it’s full of pictures of herself that she’s never seen before. 

Pictures of her walking around Los Angeles by herself and with friends. Pictures of her inside of her apartment building that were clearly taken from outside. Pictures of her showing up to Veronica’s house. Pictures of her from a year ago when she had just gotten her haircut for a shoot. Pictures of her naked in her bedroom. They were all pictures of her that no person should have had. 

She isn’t aware that she’s silently crying until a tear falls onto the picture of herself that she’s holding. 

There’s a small card at the bottom of the box and she pulls it out. 

_No matter where you go, I’m always right there with you. I hope you enjoyed your swim. xx_

 

Veronica comes home from her date to cop cars outside of her house. Her and her longtime boyfriend, Archie Andrews, rush inside; both scared of what they might find. 

“What the hell is going on?” She shouts, unnerved. 

“Miss Lodge, do you have anywhere safe you can go?” A cop asks her, trying to calm her down.

“Excuse me?” She bites. “What are you doing in my house?”

“Ronnie,” Archie says as he taps her shoulder and points to the right. 

There, in the corner of the room, is Betty standing pale as if she’d just seen death itself. Her eyes are blank and it looks as if she’s staring right through the wall. 

“Betty?” Veronica asks as she goes up to her best friend. “What happened?” 

“Miss Lodge,” another police officer asks her, “have you seen anyone suspicious around lately? Maybe someone who you’ve never seen before that you’ve suddenly noticed? A person who you seem to see everywhere you go now?” 

“What? No. No, why?” 

Betty lifts up her hand and hands Veronica whatever it was that she had been holding. 

It’s a photo. It’s a photo of Veronica and Archie alone at dinner tonight. 

“What the hell is this?” She asks, voice shaky. 

“Turn it around,” Betty whispers.

There, written on the back of the picture, are two sentences. It’s just two sentences but it’s enough to make Veronica’s entire body go cold. 

_It’d be so easy for me to get to you, lonely one. Sleep well._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to say that the response to this fic has been AMAZING. Seriously, thank you to everyone who has commented or left kudos on this. I'm so glad you guys like this story and I hope you continue to enjoy it! <3

The Luxe Sunset Boulevard Hotel is gorgeous. It’s a place where Betty had stayed at long ago before she was actually living in California. She had always said that she’d like to stay there again. She wasn’t sure this was the way she wanted to return to it, though. 

Zack and Charles, her two temporarily assigned bodyguards, hover just outside of her hotel room door. It’s slowly driving her insane how they seem to be everywhere these days acting as if she’s the President of the Unites States. It’s like she has her own personal Secret Service and she isn’t so sure she likes it. The other day she tried to use the restroom at a Jack in The Box and Charles had made sure it was completely empty before letting her go. It was nice for her privacy she supposes, but then when she remembered that both burly men stood outside of the restroom door, she suddenly didn’t have to go so bad.

She understands why things have to be the way they are. She’s aware of just how serious the entire situation is, but she just wishes things could go back to normal. She misses her apartment and being able to go out on her own. She can’t go anywhere these days without being trailed by her band of merry men who weren’t very merry at all and it’s infuriating. 

She’s been cooped up inside of her hotel room for the past week. She doesn’t necessarily have anywhere to go and usually she’d be enjoying her off time, but now she was craving a little fun in her life. She had to do _something_ or else she was going to go crazy. She was starting to feel like the wife in _The Yellow Wallpaper._

She walks out of the bedroom and over to the small living room area. She couldn’t really complain about the room in all honesty. Cheryl Blossom, her manager, had made sure that she was given the One-Bedroom Luxe Suite. It was absolutely gorgeous and spacious as hell with its own Wi-Fi, an in-room tablet, On-Demand movies, and even a wet bar. The wet bar was her favorite part so far. If she was going to have to be under a watchful eye and locked down, then at least it was in style. 

There’s a knock at her door and she looks up to see Zack opening it up. Zack and Charles both had their own room cards just in case something ended up happening to her. She wasn’t sure if the idea comforted her or made her even more nervous. 

“Look who decided to stop by,” Cheryl Blossom says as she walks past Zack and into the room. 

“Hey, Cher.” 

“Not me, Cooper.” She moves aside and Veronica walks in behind her, smile on her face and arms full of bags. 

“Oh, my gosh!” Betty laughs as she gets up and walks over to her best friend. “What are you doing here?” 

“Are you under quarantine or something?” Veronica snorts. 

“I ran into her in the lobby,” Cheryl says. “I needed to discuss a few things with you.” 

They all sit down in the living room area and Cheryl pulls a tablet of her own out of her purse. 

“I understand things are a little hectic so if you don’t feel comfortable then just let me know, but you’re set to attend a charity banquet this weekend.” She looks at Betty in question and the blonde all but stands up and starts dancing in excitement. 

“Hell yes! I need to get out of this room. Are you sure it’s wise, though? You know, with everything going on.” 

“Well, it’s a public event, but you’re going to have a bodyguard with you at all times. Which is actually the second thing we need to discuss.” Cheryl pauses, putting her tablet down to look at Betty. “You’re getting a 24-hour bodyguard.” 

Betty groans. “Cher…” 

“No, Betty. Don’t. This is serious. This isn’t some mild fan who just happens to love you a little too much. This guy is crazy and whoever he is, he could want you dead. I know you want things to go back to normal, but they aren’t going to be until we find out who this person is.” Cheryl’s voice is hard and Betty immediately feels bad. Cheryl’s just as much her friend as she is her manager and she was definitely shaken up by all the recent events. 

“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” She tries to smile, to lighten things up a bit. “What’s my new bodyguard’s name?” 

“Forsythe Jones,” Veronica snorts at the name and Cheryl sends her a glare. “Zack and Charles are excellent but they can’t afford to be around you 24/7, Mr. Jones can though. I also have it on good record that he’s _very_ well trained at his job, which is just what we need. He’s only twenty-nine though, which is a bit young but he’s supposed to be the best of the best. You’re going to be meeting him tomorrow afternoon.” 

Twenty-nine? That did seem a bit too young in Betty’s opinion. Not to her, she was only twenty-three, but to Zack and Charles who were both in their forties, this guy was pretty young. If Cheryl thought him qualified, though then Betty wouldn’t question her. Cheryl was nothing if not always right. 

“Okay, so back to why I’m here,” Veronica speaks up, obviously bored from the conversation, “I think it’d be good for Betty to get out.” 

“And go where exactly?” Cheryl asks, eyes narrowing. 

“Well, Pure is having free drinks tonight for all the ladies.” 

“A club?” Betty laughs. Pure is probably the most ironic name for a club ever, because the things that went down in it were most definitely _not_ pure, but it was also a really classy place and Veronica’s favorite club. 

“You’re joking, right?” Cheryl says, unamused. “You have got to be joking. I know you did not just say that it would be a good idea for her to go out to a club when she literally has a stalker running around L.A.” 

“Oh, come on,” Veronica says with an eye roll, “do you expect her to just stop living her life now because some sleezeball—.”

“Is trying to possibly _kill_ her?” Cheryl cuts her off. 

“See, I knew this would happen, which is why I brought backup.” Veronica reaches into one of the shopping bags she had brought in with her and pulls out what looks like a clump of black chest hair. “A disguise!” 

Betty erupts into laughter. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a wig!” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cheryl sighs. 

“It’s hideous,” Betty informs her. 

“Well, it’s meant to hide your identity and keep you incognito, not make you look hot to attract attention.” 

Betty laughs again. She’s not sure if she’s laughing because it’s actually funny or if she’s laughing because it’s funny to see just how pathetic her life has gotten these last few weeks. A disguise just so she could go out and have some fun? It’s like the worst kind of nightmare. 

“A wig, some heavy makeup, and an outfit that Betty Cooper would never been seen in? I say it’s a go,” Veronica speaks up again. 

Cheryl just looks over to Betty who presses her lips together and shrugs her shoulders.

 

Two hours later she’s staring at herself in the mirror, wondering when the hell her life got this messy. Veronica had managed to brush the wig out and make it look decent and to be honest, it actually wasn’t that bad. Her face was covered in dark makeup, the kind that she’d never be caught dead wearing but Veronica insisted that it was necessary. 

The outfit that her best friend had chose for her was something that she’d never even look at while shopping for herself. It’s a tight black dress that squeezes her so much, she doesn’t think she can breathe. She’s scared to take a breath, in fear that she’s going to rip the tiny material. 

“Guys…” she says as she walks out of the restroom. “This is kind of crazy.” 

Cheryl and Veronica just look at her, both of their eyes going wide as they take in her appearance. 

“Holy shit,” Veronica whispers. 

“I agree,” Cheryl says once she regains her composure. “It is crazy so you should probably just stay here where it’s safe. We can all stay with you and rent a movie.”

“No way,” Veronica speaks up for her. “She’s not going to sit around in fear because of some psycho asshole. You’re not going to let him ruin your life, Betty. You’re Betty fucking Cooper and you’re going to have fun tonight and I dare anyone to try and mess with you. Now put these on,” she says as she throws a pair of black heels towards her. 

“Nice speech,” Cheryl says, but Betty doesn’t have to look at her to know she’s being sarcastic. “Zack and Charles are going with you and I don’t want to hear that you’ve tried ditching them or something as equally stupid. I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch so you can meet with Mr. Jones. We’ll just meet here.” She gives Betty and Veronica one last glare before walking out of the hotel room. 

“You know, I think she needs a night out.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Betty says with a laugh. 

 

Pure is in full swing when they both get there. It’s a rather large club so it’s not too crowded or anything and Betty feels lighter as she walks inside. Clubs aren’t really her scene, but it’s nice to get out of her hotel room. 

No one’s noticed her so far, although she doesn’t think it’ll last long since she’s with Veronica. Her best friend tends to attract unwanted attention. 

They walk to the back of the club where their usual VIP booth is. There’s a bouncer there, Jake, who allows them through. Pure was nothing if not very attentive to its guests and the names Veronica Lodge and Betty Cooper were too well known to not be given extra special attention. 

“Can I get you ladies anything?” Jake asks. 

“Just two Appletinis,” Veronica says with a smile. “You know, B, you actually look kind of good in that wig. It’s a bit sexy actually.” 

“Excuse me?” Betty laughs, taken off guard. 

“Yeah, I mean of course you’re already sexy because of the whole supermodel thing, but you’re more of the girl next door kind of sexy, but right now? Right now you look like you could kill a man without even messing up your lipstick, which by the way is amazing too.” 

She’s wearing a classic dark red lipstick, a shade very different from the light pink she usually sticks to. She can’t help but smirk at Veronica’s words. Truth be told, it feels like she’s playing dress up tonight and she likes it. She not only looks dangerous and sexy, she _feels_ it too. 

Jake comes back with their drinks and the two of them thank him before taking a sip. Veronica launches into her reason of wanting to come out tonight. Apparently Archie’s going back on tour and with her movie about to start filming, there’s no way she can join him. Betty feels for her, dating a singer has to be kind of difficult. She knows that dating isn’t really something that works out in her line of work. Celebrities dating other celebrities leads to conflict of schedules, drama, and a lot of heartbreak. At least that’s what she’s heard. It’s one of the many small reasons why she doesn’t care much to date right now. Although sometimes she wishes she had what her best friend had. Being in love couldn’t be so bad if Archie and Veronica were anything to go by.

After a few more drinks, Veronica and Betty head out to the dance floor. It’s a bit hard to have fun when she can see her two bodyguards standing in the corner of the room, but being drunk kind of makes it easier to forget about. There’s a fast paced remix of some rock song playing in the background and Betty swings her hips along to the music with Veronica. Dancing with her best friend is more fun than it could ever be with any guy. The two of them laugh and sing along to the lyrics and head bang along to the beat while trying to still look decent while dancing. It’s fun and they probably look like complete messes, but Betty doesn’t care. For the first time in a while, she’s actually having fun. The smile on her face isn’t forced. She doesn’t think about hooded figures or bloody knives. She thinks about the way her heart is racing and how good she feels. She’s thinking about how great her life feels in this exact moment and she stores it away for something to look look back on when things ultimately get bad again. 

 

She’s fighting a bunch of small Kirby’s on a huge cruise ship. She tries to jump off the ship, it seems like her only choice, but one of the Kirby’s grabs her and throws her back onboard. 

“I’ll destroy you!” She warns, backing away from her capturer. 

“You can try,” the Kirby says sounding a lot like Daniel Radcliffe. 

Before she can move, five Kirby’s jump onto her and start hitting her repeatedly. 

“Cut it out!” She yells as one starts to punch her head over and over again with it’s tiny little pink hand. “Stop! Stop!” 

“Wake up!” Kirby shouts at her. “Wake up!” 

“No,” she yells back. 

“Wake up!” 

Betty jumps up, sees a flash of red in front of her and screams before throwing herself off of her bed. 

“Ow,” she groans, reaching up to pat her head where she had hit it on the floor. She ends up grabbing hold of the wig she wore last night and rips it off. It’s a lot less glamorous looking than she remembers. “What are you doing here?” 

“We were supposed to be meeting so you could get acquainted with your new bodyguard. It’s one in the afternoon. Jesus, Betty.” 

Betty just looks up at Cheryl and glares at her. “My mouth tastes like fire.” 

“I brought food,” Cheryl offers, ignoring her. “You might want to clean yourself up before you meet Mr. Jones.” 

Betty just grumbles to herself as she rubs her head that’s currently pounding. She doesn’t know why she listened to Veronica last night. Drinking was never a good idea. Damn Pure and it’s amazing Appletinis. She listens to Cheryl and gets up to walk over to the restroom. The light makes her head hurt even more as she turns it on, but nothing compares to the absolute terror and disgust she feels once she looks into the mirror. 

Her black eye makeup is completely ruined as it trails down her cheeks. Her lipstick is smeared everywhere and her hair looks like it went through a carwash. 

“Jesus Christ, Betty,” she whispers to herself. “Get yourself together.” 

She spends the next ten minutes washing her face and brushing her hair and teeth, attempting to make herself look presentable. She eventually gives up. There’s only so much she can do for her ruined appearance and besides she’s only meeting her bodyguard, not the Queen of England. 

She throws on a robe and puts on her black fuzzy house shoes before she walks out into the living room. Cheryl is talking to a rather tall man whose back is currently towards Betty. All she can see is his unruly black hair. 

She clears her throat. “I was promised food.” 

Cheryl stretches her neck around the man in front of her and then the stranger himself turns around and locks his eyes with hers. 

Betty dies. 

No, just kidding. But seriously. She feels like her soul leaves her body as she stares at the man in front of her. He’s quite possibly the most handsome person she’s ever seen. He has one strand of his hair that curls and falls into his eye, it should make him look like a boy who can’t brush his hair properly, but instead it just makes him seem sexy. He has greenish blue eyes that stare into her own. His gaze is hard as it focuses on her and he doesn’t make any attempt to smile or greet her. Betty’s eyes roam to his jawline, which is sharp as hell, and then travel down his body. She would feel embarrassed, but she’s too hungover for that as she blatantly checks him out. She’s surprised to see that his eyes never leave hers. She’s in her bathrobe for God’s sake and he isn’t even trying to check her out. She doesn’t know if she should feel insulted. 

“I got you some pancakes,” Cheryl says, oblivious to Betty checking this guy out. “Come sit.” 

She walks over to the table and takes a seat, still staring at the handsome stranger. 

“Betty, this is Forsythe Jones. He’s your new bodyguard. Mr. Jones, this is Betty Cooper.” 

“Hi,” Betty says, mouth full of pancakes. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

Forsythe just nods. 

It’s a strange name, Betty thinks to herself. She wonders if it might be a family one. That’s classy and she can definitely get behind it. 

“Now, I’ve already given him your schedule,” Cheryl continues. “He’s staying in the room right next to yours, but he’s to be around you at all times. We need to work on finding you some place to live that isn’t your apartment or this hotel, but that can wait for now. Mr. Jones is to be informed before you decide to go anywhere, Betty, this is an order. He’s to accompany you everywhere you go.” 

Betty rolls her eyes, feeling like a little kid again, but she just nods.

“If you ever need anything then just ask him, but remember that he isn’t your slave.” Dirty thoughts flow through her mind at that, but she pushes them away. “He’s here to protect you, not serve you.”

“Protect and serve,” Betty mutters under her breath, but no one seems to hear her. 

“The charity banquet is this weekend, remember, so Mr. Jones you’ll have to accompany her to that.” He just nods, face as serious as ever. Betty wonders if he ever smiles. “You won’t have to stay for too long. You just need to make an appearance to keep the media happy.” 

Cheryl’s phone goes off, altering her of an email. She lifts up a finger, letting Betty and Mr. Jones know that she needs a minute. Betty munches on a piece of bacon while her new bodyguard just sits there looking like a damn statue. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cheryl hisses to herself. Betty looks at her in question. Instead of answering, Cheryl just hands her phone over to Betty. 

On her screen is a picture of a magazine with the headline: **Undercover Model? Betty Cooper Dances With Friends In A Sexy Disguise and We’re Here For It.** There’s a picture of her with her arms around Veronica’s neck and her head thrown back while they’re on the dance floor. Betty’s laughing in the picture and anyone who sees it can tell that she’s drunk and having a good time. 

“How did they know it was me?” She pouts. 

“That disguise wasn’t very good,” her bodyguard speaks up. He has a deep voice that makes Betty’s breath hitch. “It probably wasn’t a very good idea to go to a club under these circumstances either, don’t you think?”

Betty glares at him, feeling annoyed at his words. “I’m not going to stop living my life just because some guy is a little too obsessed with me,” she says, copying Veronica’s words. 

“Betty, he’s right,” Cheryl says. “This isn’t good. This is the last thing we need right now. Your stalker getting ahold of this article could lead to some serious damage.” 

Betty frowns at the words as a spike of fear runs through her. Cheryl is right. This was incredibly reckless of her. 

“I just wanted to have fun,” she says softly. 

“Fun?” Forsythe speaks up. “You’re not a little kid anymore. Stop behaving like one.” 

“Uh, you don’t even know me,” Betty snaps at him.

“I know enough,” he replies. “You won’t be doing this while you’re under my watch. I’m here to protect you and letting you run off to clubs with your little friends isn’t what I’m paid to do.” 

“I’ll fire you!” Betty says, raising her voice. “You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Actually, you can’t fire him,” Cheryl says. “Only I can and I’m not going to, because he has a point. You need to start acting a bit more maturely, Betty. Your life is at stake here.” 

She wants to scream out. She hates everything that’s happening right now. She hates what her life is becoming. She hates that she has to take orders from someone who just so happens to be a jackass. 

“This is ridiculous!” She yells. “I doubt that creep will even see these. Maybe he’s getting over all of this.” She doesn’t know if she’s trying to convince herself or them, but either way it doesn’t work. 

“Very unlikely,” Cheryl says gently. “Just please let Mr. Jones do his job. Don’t be difficult.” 

Betty just nods, giving up. They spend the rest of the time going over things and events that she needs to make an appearance at. She wishes she could just stay home all the time and not have to worry about the outside world, but she knows that’s not an option anymore. She had been dying to get out of her hotel room before, but she was over the whole fresh air thing now. 

It’s a little past four when Cheryl finally gets up to leave. Betty follows her to the door and Mr. Jones opens it up for the redhead. Betty rolls her eyes at the gentlemanly move. He’s been kind and polite to Cheryl, but he’s treated Betty as if she was a kid this entire time and she hates it. She hates him and they’ve only just met. 

“Oh,” Cheryl says as she picks up a package off the floor. Betty’s heart skips a beat as she looks at it. She knows what it is before they even open it up. 

“Throw it away,” she whispers out to them. “Throw it away!” 

Forsythe grabs the package and takes it inside. Cheryl walks back over to the table as she follows him. 

“Throw it away!” Betty repeats. “I don’t want to see it.” 

“Well, you have to,” Forsythe replies harshly and Betty decides right there and then that she hates him more than anything. 

He opens up the package and takes out the contents. Cheryl’s eyes widen at what he pulls out and Betty tears up. 

It’s the magazine article with words written over it in black sharpie. 

_I’d recognize you anywhere. Dress like a cheap slut and you’ll die a cheap slut._

“Oh, my God,” Cheryl whispers out, wordless for once. Betty walks over to the couch absentmindedly and sits down. 

Forsythe snatches the magazine off of the table and rips it up before tossing it into the trashcan. 

“How the hell did he find out where she lives? What kind of fucked up security did you place her under? I want you to find a new living arrangement for her immediately,” he orders Cheryl. “I will not have her living here where this person can so easily reach her.” 

“Of course,” Cheryl replies, already typing away at her phone. 

“And make sure whenever you pick has two bedrooms, because I’ll be living with her. I need to keep an eye on her at all times. I’m not letting this happen again.” He pulls out his own phone and starts typing away at it. 

Betty wants to argue that she doesn’t need him to live with her like a babysitter, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to be alone anymore. 

“I’ll find this person,” Forsythe says as he kneels down in front of Betty. “I swear to God, I will find him and I’ll kill him myself.” 

She doesn’t know if the words should frighten her, but they don’t. They comfort her. For the first time since all this has started, she feels comforted and she nods at her bodyguard’s words. 

“I believe you,” she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh, Jughead isn't having any of this!  
> Also can I say how weird it was to write him as "Forsythe" and "Mr. Jones"? Lol! That will change soon though, thank goodness. Anyways hope you guys liked this and as always, feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com). :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just say that I officially want this fictional Betty's life (minus the crazy stalker of course). I actually researched where I wanted her to live with Jughead and then searched for the two dresses she had to choose from. It was so much fun!  
> Anyways, here you guys go. <3 ENJOY!

Her new place is okay. She’s sure that any other person would consider it an amazing place to get away. To her it just feels like a prison. Cheryl had told her that she should think of it as a small getaway. Staying at The Met Loft hardly seemed like such a chore, even Forsythe had seemed a bit starstruck when he had entered the apartment. Which brought her to her next point. 

She hated living with Forsythe Jones. 

There wasn’t anything really wrong with him, per se, but it was just his presence that irked her. The apartment was big enough, a two bedroom two bath living arrangement, but it felt crowded having to share it with the other man. He made sure to stay out of her way for the most part, which wasn’t so hard when she hardly left her bedroom these days. However, on the rare occasion when she would go to the living room or wander around, he was always there lurking.

Like right now for instance. She was sitting at the round table in the kitchen, eating a bagel as she stared out of the large window next to her. It was only eight in the morning, but the city was wide awake already. She liked to see the cars pass by and she would watch as people walked their dogs and went for runs. It was nice, except for the fact that her new bodyguard was doing pull-ups in the damn living room. 

He had a bar placed on the doorway connecting to his room and the living room. It kind of made him look like a douchebag in Betty’s opinion, especially since they had a gym downstairs but whatever. His back was faced towards her as he grunted out while pulling himself up. The noises were enough to make her roll her eyes in annoyance as she tried to focus on the insistent honking outside instead. 

She considered maybe running on the treadmill after she finished her bagel. Tonight was the charity banquet and she always liked to get a nice run in before getting ready. It made her feel a bit better about herself. She didn’t have to start getting ready until at least one, so she had a bit of time to kill. A workout could be fun. 

“Seventy,” Forsythe grunted out and Betty gave him an exasperated look.

“Must you count out loud?” She asked, finally reaching her point. 

“I’ll forget otherwise,” he calls back, uncaring. “Seventy-five. Seventy-six. Seventy-seven.”

“Now you’re just being a jerk,” she mumbles. As time went on, she began to miss Zack and Charles, who weren’t so damn smug all the time or who didn’t insist on walking around like they were a gift from above. Forsythe was hot, there was no denying that, but he also reminded her of the jocks back in high school; the ones who thought they were too good for the world and so she couldn’t talk to him for more than five minutes without getting annoyed. 

“Your team’s coming here around one, right?” He asks as he walks over towards the fridge, opening it up and pulling out the carton of orange juice. Betty just hums in response. “How well do you know them all? 

“What?” She asks, caught off guard. He just gives her a look that let’s her know he doesn’t have time to wait around for her answer. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“I’m not,” he says as he sits in front of her at the table. “I don’t even think they should be coming over here to help you get ready. Cheryl, you, and I are the only ones who are aware of your current location and I think it should be kept that way.” 

“They’re my hair and makeup team!” She’s had it with how ridiculously overprotective he is. She’s fully aware that this is his job, but sometimes he just takes things a bit too far. “They’re professionals, you know, kind of like you. If you want to start pointing fingers at people who have been by my side since I first started out, then let’s point them at you, too.” 

He tilts his head at her in question. 

“How do we know _you_ aren’t my stalker?” She demands. “I don’t know you. I don’t know the first thing about you yet I’m just supposed to trust my life with you? How does that make any sense?” 

Forsythe pauses and looks taken aback for a fraction of a second before his features harden and then he just looks a bit angry. Betty would feel bad, except she doesn’t. At all. He’s a jerk and she’s not going to apologize for stating facts. 

“Do you have plans?” He asks, changing the subject completely. Betty just rolls her eyes before answering. 

“I was going to go run downstairs.” 

“Get dressed then,” he tells her. “We’ll go.” 

“I can go by myself,” she reminds him. “It’s an apartment complex! You need a key to get in.”

“I’m sorry,” he says as he stands up. “Did you not live at an apartment complex the first time? And then it was a gated community, right? Then a hotel?” Betty doesn’t say anything, she just glares at him. “That’s what I thought. Get ready.” 

She gets up and stomps all the way over to the bedroom. She doesn’t care if she’s acting like a kid. She hopes that there’s a bar at the event tonight, because she’s going to need a few drinks.

 

The gym is pretty empty when they finally get to it. There’s some middle-aged man on one of the many treadmills, a young girl on the stepper, and a guy who looks to be in his thirties is weightlifting. 

Betty goes over to an empty treadmill and places her bottle of water in the cupholder. The treadmill has builtin fans on it and she makes she to turn both of them on full blast. Forsythe walks over to a high and low pulley system and sits down at it. Betty wasn’t sure if he was going to work out down here too or if he was just going to stand in the corner and glare at everyone, but it seems that question had been answered. 

She noticed that he was the only guy in the gym still wearing a shirt. The other two guys were proudly showing their bodies off, but not Forsythe. She wondered if there was a reason behind it or if he was just that modest. She couldn’t help but watch as his arm muscles flexed as he used the machine. He wasn’t a huge guy that would be in any body building competitions anytime soon, but he had nice muscles and Betty was sure he could pack a punch. 

She finally turns her attention away from him and focuses on her own workout. She made sure to bring her headphones down with her and she gets lost in a workout playlist that she made the other day that’s full of a bunch of early 2000’s songs. It’s probably not the most motivating type of music, but for some reason it works for her. 

She’s been running for a while and she’s halfway through Cupid’s Chokehold when a hand clamps down on her forearm. She’s taken off guard and she gasps as she loses footing. Her speed is at an eight right now, so she immediately goes down. She’s waiting for the inevitable pain of her face getting mauled by the treadmill. It never comes. 

Strong arms wrap around her and lift her up off of the treadmill and place her on the ground. She places her hands on the shoulders of whoever grabbed her as she tries to regain her balance. Once she feels steady, she takes her headphones out of her ears and looks up. 

A man she’s never seen before is standing in front of her. He wasn’t in here when she first walked in, so she assumes that he’s just started to workout out if the way he isn’t sweating is anything to go by. He’s handsome with blonde hair and brown eyes and the shoulders she’s currently grabbing onto are broad and strong feeling. She might be swooning a little as she looks at him. 

“I’m so sorry about that,” he says and her mouth goes dry at the obvious Australian accent that slips from his lips. 

“It’s fine,” she says, shrugging, trying to play off the whole incident as if she didn’t almost just face plant into the ground. 

“I just had to ask, are you Betty Cooper?” Her name sounds heavenly in his accent and she just nods in awe. “I thought so. I’m a huge fan of yours. Did you recently move in here?” 

Before she can answer him, she feels someone place a hand on her shoulder and she turns to see Forsythe standing behind her, his signature serious look on his face. The guy in front of her looks over at her bodyguard and Betty almost snorts at the way he has to look up to him. Forsythe is pretty tall compared to her and this guy is hardly any taller than her, so that means her bodyguard is towering over him. 

“Hey, man,” the Australian accent stranger says to him. Forsythe just stares at him. “Your boyfriend?” He asks Betty once he realizes he isn’t getting anywhere with her bodyguard. 

Betty has to stop herself from cracking up. 

“No,” she says with a smile, holding back her laughter, “he’s not.” She doesn’t offer up any other information and the guy just nods. 

“Well, I’m Nathan,” he tells her. “It was nice to meet you. I hope I see you around.” Betty just smiles at him before he turns and walks over to one of the weight sets. 

She doesn’t bother to say anything to Forsythe before grabbing her water bottle and marching out of the gym. She tries to speed walk to reach the elevator before him, but it’s no use. 

“Betty!” He calls out, right behind her. “What was that?” 

She smashes her finger into the UP button on the elevator before turning around on him. “Um, _what was that_?” She repeats back to him. “Is there any reason why you interrupted that conversation?”

He gives her a blank look. “Are you… are you serious right now?”

“Oh, my god,” she groans, thanking the gods above when the elevator opens up. She walks in and hits her floor number. “He was just introducing himself to me. He was a fan!” 

Forsythe doesn’t say anything and Betty sighs. 

“Look, I know you’re doing your job and I appreciate it so much, but you can’t run off everyone who just so much as glances at me. I still have friends, I have a life, and I’m probably going to continue to meet people. You just need to protect me and I don’t think I was in any immediate danger there, aside from almost tripping and busting my ass.” The corner of his lips turn up ever so slightly and Betty smiles. “My stalker, whoever it is, probably won’t come up to me and introduce himself in the middle of an occupied gym.” 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes and Betty’s taken aback. “You’re right. I might have been a little too much back there. I’ll try to work on it.” 

She smiles. “Good. That’s all I ask for.” 

 

The rest of the afternoon is spent in front of a mirror as her hair and makeup is done. This routine is always boring to her because she hates having to sit still. She engages in conversation with everyone, but her butt starts to hurt after the first hour and then after that she gets antsy. Forsythe sits in a chair in the corner of the room and reads a book. He only looks up every so often and Betty counts it as a win since she’s sure he’d usually be watching everyone like a hawk. 

Christopher and Jackie, two of her hair and makeup stylists, fill her in on their lives and keep the conversation flowing steadily. It’s the only thing that keeps her from going insane. She laughs along at their stories and it makes the time pass by a little faster. 

Before she knows it, it’s time to slip into her dress, which means that they’re nearly finished. She has the option to choose from a Badgley Mischka Champagne Sequined Racerback Gown and a Monique Lhuillier Embroidered Long-sleeve Illusion Gown in Antique Silver. Both look so gorgeous and she’s torn between the two of them. Christopher and Jackie insist that the Badly Mischka is perfect, but she turns towards Forsythe who’s still reading his book. 

“What do you think?” She asks. He keeps his head down, not aware that she’s addressing him. “Forsythe?” She tries again. This time he immediately looks up, closing his book and giving her his full attention. “Which dress?” 

He glances over to the two options and then looks back at her before pointing to the Monique Lhuillier one. 

“It’ll look nice with your hair,” he tells her. She looks back towards the mirror. Her hair’s just done in a simple teased ponytail with a few of the shorter strands fanning her face. “Very classy.” 

She smiles and looks over at him. “Classy? Okay.” She grabs the Monique Lhuillier dress from the hanger and goes into the restroom to put it on in privacy with Jackie. 

“Asking for his opinion?” Jackie hums. “Very interesting.” 

“Hush,” Betty laughs. “Don’t even start.” 

“I’m just saying. He’s very handsome, isn’t he? A much better looker than that NFL star you dated.” 

“Reggie was cute!” She defends. She had liked Reggie. 

“Of course, but he was a pretty boy. Mr. Jones is much more than that. He seems rugged and dangerous, like he’s seen and experienced a lot. He’s sexy.”

“Oh, my God, Jackie,” she laughs, “why don’t you date him then?”

“Don’t tempt me,” she snorts as she zips up the dress. 

They finish up and walk back out into the room. Christopher immediately wolf whistles. 

“Yes, queen,” he cheers, grabbing her hand and twirling her around, “you look so hot!” He hands her a pair of heels to complete the look and she leans on him as she puts them on. 

Christopher and Jackie continue to rave about how good she looks and she laughs at the compliments even though she can feel her cheeks start to brighten. 

She turns towards Forsythe, who’s looking at her too with a smile of amusement on his face. 

“Classy?” She asks him. 

“You look lovely,” he tells her. It’s a simple compliment and she’s sure he’d say it even if he didn’t mean it, but either way it makes her face light up. 

 

There’s a red carpet, of course there is. Betty sighs as the limo stops in front of it. She’s sitting in the back by herself, Forsythe is up front with the driver, and she feels nervous. It’s her first time attending an event since the threats started and she feels uneasy about it. She doesn’t think anything will happen to her here, not with all these people and not with her new bodyguard but either way, it’s a bit unnerving. 

The limo door opens and Forsythe is bent over in front of her, blocking off anyone from seeing her. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks her, eyes searching hers for any kind of hesitation. 

“I don’t know,” she answers truthfully. 

“We can always turn back around and go to the apartment.” 

“No,” she says. She will not live her life in fear. “I can do this.” 

He smiles at her, like he’s proud of her, and nods. “Ready?” 

“I’m ready.” 

He moves out of the way and extends a hand down to her. She grasps onto it as she swings her legs out of the limo and onto the concrete. He helps her out of the limo and then closes the door. 

She intertwines their arms together and puts on a smile. Forsythe walks with his body slightly in front of hers as if he’s a shield. 

“Betty!” Someone calls out as what seems like a hundred flashing lights start to go off. “Is it true that you’re set to be the new face of Adidas?” 

“Is it true that you’re dating Jake Gyllenhaal?” 

“Betty, where’s Reggie tonight?” 

“Betty!” 

“Betty!”

As soon as they get inside she lets the smile drop from her face. 

“Jake Gyllenhaal?” Forsythe asks, a smirk on his face. 

Betty untangles their arms and rolls her eyes. “I talked to him one time at the Oscars and now we’re dating and the wedding is in June.” 

Forsythe just snorts. 

“Do you want to go sit down?” Betty asks. “These heels are killer to stand in.”

“You go sit,” he tells her. “I’m going to hang back here.” 

Betty frowns in confusion. “Why? You can come sit with me, you know. I’m allowed a plus one and I didn’t invite anyone, obviously.” 

Forsythe just gives her an unamused look. “I’m your bodyguard, Elizabeth, not your date. I’m just here to watch over you and make sure nothing happens.” 

She’s not sure if the words should sting the way they do. She was aware that he wasn’t her date, but she didn’t understand why that meant he couldn’t sit with her. Just because he was her bodyguard that didn’t mean he couldn’t be her friend as well. 

“Don’t call me Elizabeth,” she says instead. “I don’t like being called that.” 

“I don’t like being called Forsythe,” he replies in a bored tone. She’s about to ask him what he prefers to be called, when a voice calls her own name. She turns around to see Veronica walking towards her with a grin and actor Kevin Keller on her arm. 

“Hey, V,” she greets, pulling her best friend into a hug. “Oh, you look so beautiful!”

“Me? Look at you! God, I’d kill for your legs.” 

“Hey, Kev,” Betty greats the other actor. “How have you been?” 

“I’m good. I really wasn’t going to come here tonight, but I couldn’t deal with Veronica’s crying over how it would look if she showed up alone.” Kevin and Betty both roll their eyes at that. 

“I came alone,” Betty informs Veronica. 

“Um, unless I totally imagined that complete hottie that you walked in with then no, I’m pretty sure you didn’t.” 

“He’s my new bodyguard, V.” 

Veronica’s eyes widened as she looks over to Forsythe who’s now standing near the entrance doors, arms crossed over his chest as he stands up straight with a stoic look on his face. 

“No fucking way,” Veronica says, breathless. “That’s the guy who’s with you at all hours of the day? You have got to be kidding me. Only you would get a crazy stalker and yet somehow end up with the hottest guy ever as your bodyguard.” 

“He’s a jerk,” Betty says even though she’s not sure if she believes that anymore. 

“He could be a jerk to me all he wanted,” Kevin speaks up. “God, he looks like he’d be into some kinky shit.”

“What?” Betty yelps. “How can you even tell?” 

“I can always tell,” Kevin says with a smirk. Betty just looks away from him in disgust. 

“Okay, well I’m going to tell him that I’m going to go sit down.”

“Yeah, go give your bodyguard a goodbye kiss,” Veronica teases. “You’re sitting next to us by the way. I totally switched around a few place cards.” 

She walks away from her friends and makes her way over to Forsythe. He looks at her in confusion once she nears him. 

“I’m going to go sit with Veronica and Kevin,” she tells him. 

“Okay?” 

She’s taken aback by his careless tone. “Well, I just thought I’d let you know.” 

“Thanks,” he tells her, but it sounds a lot more sarcastic than it does sincere. Betty frowns at him, feeling embarrassed. She should have just gone to sit down. 

She turns around and makes to leave, wondering why she always seems to somehow do the wrong thing around him. She’s not even trying to impress him or anything anymore. She just wants them to be civil. It amazes her how he can go from being so kind to her, like when he complimented her earlier to dismissing her like she’s an unsophisticated child. 

“Betty,” he calls out suddenly. She turns around and gives him a bored look. He bites at his lip like he’s nervous and Betty can’t try to deny how sinful the action looks. “Have fun tonight, but be careful. Come get me when you’re ready to go.” 

It’s hardly an apology, but she’ll take it. She just nods before turning back around to find Veronica and Kevin. 

 

Two hours later she finds herself sitting at the bar with her friends. She knows that she shouldn’t be drinking and she thought back to the terrible hangover she had just the other day, but the martini that Veronica had ordered looked way too tempting and so she found herself ordering one. Of course one turned into two which turned into three and well, who was keeping count honestly? 

“Oh my god,” Kevin gasped as he looked beyond Betty and Veronica, “guess who just walked in here alone.” 

“Who?” Veronica giggled, feeling the weight of the alcohol herself. 

“Reggie Mantle.” 

Betty turns around in her chair and sure enough, Reggie is walking over to the bar and he appears to be stag. She hasn’t talked to him lately, not since the whole article, but there wasn’t any bad blood between them. 

“I’m going to go say hi,” she tells her friends. 

“First the hot bodyguard then Reggie? You’re on a roll.” 

Betty just ignores Veronica’s teasing as she gets up and walks over to Reggie. At least she hopes she’s walking. The alcohol is starting to hit her hard and things may or may not be spinning. 

“Hey, Reg,” she greets once she gets close to him. 

He turns and looks at her in surprise. “Betty! Hey.” He pulls her in for a hug. Betty inhales his cologne. Reggie always smelled heavenly. It was one of her favorite things about him. 

“How are you?” She asks, leaning against the bar for support. 

“Good, good. On offseason right now so I’ve been spending time with my family. Sorry I haven’t been in touch.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” she tells him. He doesn’t know about her stalker and she’d like to keep it that way. “I’ve just been enjoying some time off too. Although I’m sure that won’t last long.” 

“It never does with you,” he smiles. “You’re one sought after girl, Betty Cooper. The world loves you.” 

“Shut up,” she snorts. “You’re here alone?” 

“Yeah. I actually kind of went on a date recently with a girl from my hometown. She was kind of my high school crush.” Reggie blushes and Betty coos at him. This was the best part about being friends with him, Reggie wasn’t interested in Betty like most guys tended to be. It was nice to be able to talk to a guy as a friend. Besides Archie and Kevin, she didn’t really have anyone else like that in her life. 

“That’s so cute! Why didn’t you invite her?” 

“It’s new,” he shrugs. “And I don’t think she’d like the spotlight too much, you know?” 

Betty nods in understanding because she does know. The spotlight takes some time to get used to. Sometimes she thinks she might not even be used to it yet. She misses the days when she could get a burger without it making the tabloids.

“We’re taking it slow,” he continues. 

“Well, I’m happy for you.” She says with a smile. “But don’t forget about me! Call me sometime and we can have lunch. I think I’m going to head out of here pretty soon.” 

“One two many drinks?” He asks with a smirk. “You’re a bit wobbly. Do you want me to escort you to a cab?” 

Betty snorts at his words but shakes her head. “Could you take me to my bodyguard actually? I’m scared I might fall over in these shoes. He’s by the entrance.” 

Reggie nods and extends his arm out to her, which she grabs onto gratefully. He leads her to the entrance and Betty immediately spots Forsythe. 

Apparently he had been on the lookout because he spots her at once and makes his way over to her and Reggie. He must notice her intoxicated state because he frowns at her. 

“You ready to go?” 

“Mhm,” she hums. “I’ll see you later, Reggie.” 

Reggie passes her over to Forsythe gently, who then wraps his arm around her shoulders as he tries to keep her upright. 

“Thank you,” he tells Reggie. 

Reggie nods. “Have a good night. I’ll let Veronica know you left, Betty.” 

He walks away from them and Forsythe leads them outside. The cold air feels good and in any other case, she’s sure she’d be shivering but right now Betty likes the way it feels on her face. 

“You’re drunk,” Forsythe states. 

“I’m not drunk,” she giggles. “I’m just a bit tipsy.” 

He doesn’t answer her, he just tries to get a taxi instead. It doesn’t take long before one stops for them and Forsythe puts her into it gently. She’s expecting him to sit up front, but she’s surprised when he slides in next to her as he rattles off their address to the driver. 

“Did you have fun?” He asks her. 

“I did. You should have sat with us.” He doesn’t answer her and she’s about to forget the conversation when a thought comes to mind. “Earlier you said you didn’t like to be called Forsythe. What do you liked to be called?” 

He looks over at her in shock, like maybe he wasn’t expecting her to remember that. He pauses for a moment before answering. 

“Promise you won’t laugh?” 

“I promise.” 

“Jughead.” 

“Huh?” She asks, not understanding. 

“That’s what my friends and family call me.” 

She looks at him and studies him. There’s a small smile on his face like he’s remembering something, but he’s also looking at her like he’s nervous about how she’ll react. In the end she just smiles at him lazily before leaning her head onto his shoulder. 

“Hi, Jughead,” she yawns out. “It’s nice to meet you.”

And then she closes her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and come talk to me on [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com). :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So in this chapter we're going to see a little bit of Betty's insecurities come into play.   
> Also Jughead and Betty finally define their friendship.

Her time away ends soon. 

On Monday she’s back on the beach, taking pictures for a swimsuit line. It’s more than a bit cool outside and standing in the water doesn’t make it any better. She would complain, but this is her job and she knows how things work. She just has to stick it out for a little while longer and then she can go back to her apartment and sleep under her warm covers. 

“Betty, darling, can you face the water? Look over your shoulder a tiny bit.” She does as she’s asked and the photographer has a field day. “Okay, now show us those beautiful eyes. Perfect, perfect.” He gets a few more shots in. “Okay, now just have fun!” 

Well, that’s easy enough. She bends down and splashes some of the water towards the shore. The photographer laughs and encourages her, which sparks her own laughter. She twirls around in the water and even does a few of her favorite yoga moves that she had recently mastered. She switches between having fun and being serious so that the photographer can have a variety to choose from. 

She looks onto the beach, trying to find one specific person. It doesn’t take long for her eyes to lock with Jughead’s. She wasn’t sure if the other man was expecting her to forget their conversation in the taxi, but she hadn’t. It was an odd nickname, that much was true, but she liked it. It somehow fit him better than Forsythe did and it rolled off of the tongue a whole lot easier. The fact that he had even told her about it made her feel like maybe he was warming up to her. That was debatable though. It was hard to tell what he was thinking and she was never sure were they stood with each other. 

Jughead’s wearing a black jacket, which she is very jealous of at the moment. He must see that so he makes it a point to wrap the clothing tighter around himself as he smirks over at her. She glares at him, but he gives her a thumbs up afterwards. She’s not sure what he’s giving her a thumbs up for, but then he mouths ‘You’re doing great’ to her and she grins. 

“Beautiful!” The photographer yells out. “That’s a beautiful smile, oh yes. I think that one was perfect. The happiness you just radiated, my darling.” Betty starts to blush as Jughead keeps on smirking at her, obviously hearing everything the man is saying. “I think we’re all done here.” 

They wrap things up and Betty’s relieved when she’s finally given the okay to leave. She walks over to Jughead who’s still holding the clothes she came in earlier. He hands her her jeans and t-shirt and she puts them on over the bikini she was allowed to keep. 

“Are you cold?” He asks her. “You can have my jacket.” 

“I’m fine.” It’s not even really that cool outside. It had a lot more to do with the fact that she was standing in the damn ocean in a bikini while there was a breeze. Now that she had put on her clothes though, she felt a lot more comfortable. “I was thinking we could go to the boardwalk,” she tells him. “I don’t want to go back to the apartment just yet.” 

They were currently in Santa Monica and Betty wanted to take advantage of it. When she had first visited California, Santa Monica was the first place she had gone to and she had fallen in love with it. It was a fun place and for some reason it always seemed to take her away from the present and take her to another time in another world. It was nice in this really weird, nostalgic sort of way. 

“Sure,” Jughead tells her. “Whatever you want.” She’s curious if he even wants to go or if he’s just telling her yes because that’s kind of his job. Truth be told, she’s never really had an actual bodyguard board that was permanent in her life the way Jughead was. She wanted to be able to reach out to him and connect with him, but she just didn’t know how to. Maybe if they were in an environment that was fun and easygoing it would somehow make things easier. The boardwalk was definitely a good idea. 

As they make their way to the pier, Betty looks at the people around her. There are some people that are cycling around on bikes, some are rollerskating. People are laid out on the sand and she’s pretty sure that the girl smoking on the beach isn’t smoking a cigarette if the smell is anything to go by. 

One man is yelling at absolutely nothing and Betty’s heart clenches as she realizes that he’s obviously on some type of drug. As much as she loved California and all it had to offer, she knew it was a prime place for drugs. She’d even seen firsthand just how much it truly was. Being a model kept her eyes opened to this kind of stuff. She had had people come up to her before and ask her what her secret to having such a great body was and if she could give them her dealer’s number. When she had told them that she simply stuck to working out and running, they had rolled their eyes at her. Apparently that wasn’t the cool thing to do around here. 

They’re approached by a young girl, she can’t be more than eight years old, as soon as they get onto the pier. She has long black hair, tanned skin, and big brown eyes. She’s adorable and Betty immediately stops and smiles at her. 

“Hello,” she greets. “Are you lost, love?” 

The little girl shakes her head and smiles. “Are you Betty Cooper?” 

“I am,” she nods. “What’s your name?”

“Wow,” the little girls sighs in admiration. “I’m Leia. You’re beautiful.” 

Betty and Jughead both laugh at the girl’s awestruck face, she’s staring at Betty like she’s an angel. 

“Thank you, Leia. You’re very beautiful too. I love your hair.” 

The girl’s smile grows at Betty’s compliment as she grabs a strand of her own hair and stares down at it as if to see what Betty likes so much about it. 

“I told my mommy that I want to be like you when I grow up!” The girl informs her. “She said I need to grow a little more.” 

“That’s a good idea to me. Is your mommy around here?” She doesn’t see anyone near the girl who could pass for her mother and she’s not about to leave her all alone. 

“Sure. She’s buying us an ice-cream cone over at the food courts.”

Betty widens her eyes. The food court’s more inside of the pier and she wonders why the little girl walked so far off. “Can I meet her?”

“Yes!” The little girl tells her, eyes brightening. “Mommy thinks you’re very pretty too.” Leia takes her hand and leads her over to the food court. Betty turns around to make sure that Jughead is still following them. He seems to be looking around for someone, maybe for anyone who might look distressed over losing their kid. 

They don’t even reach the food court before they see a young woman, maybe in her thirties, who’s holding two ice creams cones and looking very distraught. 

“Leia?” The woman calls out, catching the attention of a few citizens. Only one couple walks over to her though, asking if she needs any help. 

“Mommy!” Leia calls out, pulling her hand from Betty’s and running over towards the woman. “Look who I found!” 

The woman turns as soon as she hears the voice and the relief on her face is obvious as she pulls her daughter towards her, hugging her both tightly and carefully as to not get any of the ice cream on her. 

“Leia, what have I told you about walking away from me like that? You scared me half to death!” 

“I’m sorry,” the girl pouts. “I got tired of waiting, but look who I found!” She turns her mother’s attention towards Betty who is standing near them with a smile on her face. 

“Hi,” she greets sheepishly. The mother looks confused for a moment before her eyes widen. 

“Oh,” she breathes out, shocked.

“I’m Betty,” she says as she holds a hand out for the woman to shake. “Your daughter kind of found me.” 

“Sasha,” the woman says, introducing herself. “Thank you so much for bringing her to me. She has a bad habit of wandering around. She’s a curious little one,” Sasha smiles as she brings Leia closer to her side. 

“I used to be the same way when I was her age. I think I gave my mom one too many scares back in the day.” 

The woman smiles at her. “She adores you. I’m sure she was over the moon that she found you.” 

“She’s very cute,” Betty tells her. “I love meeting young fans.” And she does. She’d rather meet young fans than older ones any day. It wasn’t anything against her older fans, but they didn’t have the same kind of energy as her young ones did. It was uplifting to see the way a child’s eyes would light up as they saw her. Kids were always so energetic, offering smiles and stories to her that were always so simple yet heartwarming.

“I told Betty that I’m going to be like her when I grow up,” Leia says from around her ice cream cone. 

“Could I maybe take a picture of the two of you?” Sasha asks, looking a bit embarrassed as she does. “I think she’d be happy to have this memory forever.” 

“Of course.” Betty stands next to Leia, and squats down to her level, giving her a hug as they pose for the picture. She catches Jughead’s eye and there’s something there that she’s never seen before. She can’t put her finger on it, but the look in his eyes is one that looks so warm and inviting. She focuses back on the picture and Sasha takes it quickly. Betty stands again and says goodbye to the duo before walking back over to Jughead. 

“That was really kind of you,” he tells her, sounding a bit taken aback by it as if he wasn’t expecting her to be so nice to a child. She wonders what he thought she would have done. “You’re good with kids.” 

Betty just shrugs. “My older sister has kids. I love them. I don’t see them as much these days, because she lives in New York, but they’re amazing.” Jughead just nods at her answer. 

“Do you have any kids?” She asks him, curious. His eyes widen and he looks completely taken aback at her question. Betty would laugh at his shocked face, except she doesn’t know why it’s such a surprising question. She thinks it’s a pretty fair one. Now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t really know much about Jughead at all. They don’t talk about themselves ever. He could have a wife and she wouldn’t even know about it. Granted he doesn’t wear a wedding ring, but she knows some people who eventually stop wearing theirs even though they’re still happily married. 

“No,” he answers plainly. 

“Oh,” she nods. “Do you have a wife?” 

This time he snorts. “No, Betty.”

“A husband?” She asks as she studies his face. 

“What?” He laughs in bewilderment. “No, I’m not married.” 

“Are you dating?” 

“What is this? Twenty questions?” He sighs. 

“I’m just asking you some questions,” she pouts. “We don’t really know each other. We should get to know each other, don’t you think?” 

“I know enough about you.” 

He doesn’t say it rudely, he just states it as a matter of fact, but it still irks Betty. He doesn’t know her. He doesn’t know her at all. She’s always had people tell her that they “knew her” just because they read about her in the tabloids or saw a few interviews with her on their TV. None of them know her, though. No one ever tries to get to know her. It’s insulting and it’s definitely hurt her feelings more than once and this is one of those times. 

“No, you don’t.” She says softly as they walk along. “You don’t know me at all.”

“Betty—.”

“You think you know me because I’m famous and for some reason when you’re famous everyone thinks they know every single detail about your life?” Her voice is rising and she’s trying to keep her cool, but she can tell it isn’t working. She stops walking and faces Jughead. He looks shocked at the anger in her eyes, but she doesn’t back down. 

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Betty says as she looks up at him. “What’s my favorite color? What’s my guilty pleasure movie? My favorite song? The first concert I ever saw in person? What was my childhood like? What’s my favorite book?” Jughead just stares at her, stunned. 

“You know what I look like in a bikini,” she tells him fiercely. “You know what I look like without makeup before a photoshoot. You know my business life, but don’t you dare stand here and tell me that you know me, because you don’t.” 

He’s quiet for a moment and they just stand there on the middle of the pier, staring at each other. 

“Betty,” he finally tries, but she shakes her head. 

“I want to go home,” she tells him. “This was a bad idea.” 

Things with Jughead are so hot and cold and she hates it. She never knows what to expect from him. Sometimes she feels like they’re getting somewhere and then something like this happens. She knows that he’s her bodyguard, but she wonders if maybe he just sees her like the rest of the male population does. Does he just see her as some floozy blonde that made her way in the industry just because she has a pretty face? The amount of times she’s been on a date with a guy just to have him ask her what her favorite position in bed is comes running through her mind. 

Jughead says he knows enough about her, but what’s he basing that on? The articles about her with headlines about how she slept her way up to the top? The articles about how her dating Reggie Mantle nearly cost his football team the Super Bowl somehow? The articles about her and the supposed fifteen flings she’s had in the past five months alone? She’s well aware of the nasty things that are printed about her. No one ever talks about any of the good she does. 

Where are the articles about all the millions of dollars she’s given away to charities? Where are the articles about the numerous hospital visits she’s made to children and fans just to brighten up their days? Where are the articles about the fundraiser she started to help fight cancer? Who’s writing those articles? Those were things she did, not expecting any kind of thanks or recognition at all. They were things she did because she knew that if she was going to have all this money, then she needed to do something good with it. They were things she gladly did and would do over and over again. 

But she won’t lie and say that she didn’t cry when the day after she raised one million for charity, an article about how she had supposedly slept with a director to get a small part in a film was plastered on every single news tablet. It didn’t matter that she knew that wasn’t true, because no one else thought so. Her friends and everyone close to her knew the truth, but that was it.

She wondered if maybe this was what Jughead was referring to when he said he knew enough about her. Maybe he had made his mind up about her long ago and that’s why they couldn’t seem to move forward as friends no matter how hard she tried. 

“Betty, come on,” Jughead says in a pleading tone, but she turns around and starts walking off the pier. 

“I just want to go home,” she whispers. He doesn’t say anything this time, he just follows her. 

 

They don’t talk for the rest of the day. They don’t even talk the following day. She doesn’t have anything to do that requires her leaving the apartment, so she doesn’t need to go anywhere alone with him. There’s no reason at all for her to speak with him and so she stays in her bedroom, far away from him, leaving only when absolutely necessary. 

It’s going on the second day since their little argument on the pier and Betty’s feeling a bit over it. She’s still upset, but she’s tired of having to stay locked up in her room as if she’s trying to prove a point. She doesn’t need to act this way. She’ll just have to learn that Jughead isn’t her friend. She can treat him as a bodyguard and nothing more. Just because she hadn’t wanted to, didn’t mean that she couldn’t. She was a professional. She knew how to act. 

So on the second day she showers and brushes her hair and does a face routine so that she feels a little better about herself. It works and when she smiles in the mirror it doesn’t feel forced. She feels better. She throws on a pair of sweats and an old shirt from her high school days that has a few holes in it and is a little more than well worn. It’s comfortable though and she needs comfortable right now. 

When she walks into the kitchen she isn’t surprised to see Jughead sitting at the bar, eating a bowl of cereal. However, he looks more than surprised to see her if the way his spoon falls into his cereal is anything to go by. Some milk splashes onto him, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he stares at her. 

“Good morning, Betty,” he tells her warily, unsure as to how she’ll react to him. 

“Morning,” is all she says back as she gets a bagel and pops in into the toaster. Jughead doesn’t say anything else and it’s a bit awkward, but she refuses to acknowledge that. She just needs to wait this out and then things could go back to normal. Then again she isn’t even sure what normal is for them. 

Her bagel pops up and she puts cream cheese on it before walking over to the round table to sit. She’s not about to go back to her room and eat her breakfast in shame. No. This is _her_ apartment and she’s going to eat her bagel where she damn well pleases. 

“You only eat cream cheese with your bagel every other day.” 

It comes out of nowhere and Betty looks over at Jughead in confusion. He’s not looking back at her. He’s staring down at his bowl of cereal. 

“You switch between Nutella and cream cheese.” 

“Okay?” Betty says, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“I don’t know for sure what you favorite color is, but I’m assuming blue might be pretty high up on the list because it’s the only color you use when writing in your calendar and it’s the color of your bedsheets and pillows. You watch The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad every single night before bed and laugh at nearly every Mr. Toad scene.” Betty’s eyes widen as she realizes what he’s doing and her heart clenches. “Your favorite book is Peter Pan I’m guessing by the numerous amount of copies and editions you own. I don’t know what your childhood was like and I don’t know the first concert you ever went to, but I know a little bit.” 

Betty continues to stare at him, mouth slightly open. She doesn’t know what to tell him and he finally looks over at her with more emotion in his eyes than she’s ever seen before. 

“I’m sorry if what I said to you on the pier offended you,” and she can tell that he truly means it. “I’m not used to…” he trails off as if not knowing what to call it. 

“You’re not used to people wanting to be your friend?” She asks him, a bit sarcastically. He just glares over at her. 

“No, I’m not. I wasn’t really popular when I was younger and the only time anyone wanted to be friends with me was when they wanted something from me. It carried over to college and even now. I don’t have many friends, Betty.” 

Her heart breaks for him. He looks so sad as he says the words. Betty has no idea how he feels. She had always been a bit popular growing up since she was Polly Cooper’s younger sister and everyone loved Polly. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be alone. 

“You have me,” she tells him. “I’d like to think we can be friends.” 

“I’m your bodyguard. Can I even be your friend too?” 

“Of course,” she says with an eye roll. “You kind of have to do whatever I tell you to do and I’m telling you to be my friend.” 

“Didn’t Cheryl say I wasn’t your slave?” He smiles though and the action makes Betty immediately smile back. “I’m not dating by the way,” he says randomly and Betty looks at him weirdly. Is he trying to hint something? “The other day on the pier you asked if I was dating. I’m not. Do you really think I have time to date when I’m over here watching over you twenty-four seven?” 

Oh.

“Don’t let me hold you back,” she jokes. “I won’t have myself be the reason you’re holding back on love.”

Jughead snorts and shakes his head. “There wasn’t anyone before you and I don’t think there will be anyone now. I’m not really looking to go out and search for it.” 

“Maybe it’ll find you,” she tells him, always a sucker for a good love story. “You know, when you least expect it. Just like in the movies.” 

“Life isn’t a movie. Maybe yours, but the rest of us? Not so much.” 

“You’re in my life now though,” she tells him. “Doesn’t that kind of make you part of the movie? Just be patient, Jughead Jones. There is hope for you yet.” 

He just laugh, shaking his head and she smiles as she takes another bite out of her bagel. 

There’s a loud banging on the door suddenly and Jughead and Betty look at each other in bewilderment, wondering who would come over at this time unannounced. Jughead gets up from the bar and walks over to the front door, looking through the peephole before letting his posture relax as he opens it. 

“Cheryl,” he greets, letting the redhead inside. “I thought I was going to have to kick someone’s ass.” 

Cheryl looks over at him before rolling her eyes. “Oh yes, because you look so terrifying in your Superman pajamas.” 

Betty hadn’t noticed before, but Jughead is wearing blue pajamas with a flying Superman all over them. She snorts at the outfit, earning herself a glare from him. She just gives him a thumbs up in approval at the pants before following Cheryl into the living room. 

“So what’s up? You usually call before barging in like this. Not that I care, but—.” 

“We have a problem,” her manager cuts her off. 

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Betty asks, automatically assuming the worst. Cheryl doesn’t say anything as she reaches into her bag and pulls out a magazine, throwing it over to Betty. 

Her heart starts racing, she knows that nothing printed on this magazine can be good and her hands are shaking as she picks it up. 

Jughead’s right behind her and he lets out a snort as he sees the picture and the headline to go along with it. Betty however, doesn’t find it so amusing.

There, staring back at her, is a picture of her and Jughead on the pier two days ago. She’s staring up at him with anger written all over her face as he looks down at her with an expression of confusion and regret. 

**Trouble in Paradise? Betty Cooper seems less than happy with new mystery boyfriend.**

“Jesus,” Betty whispers. “Can we write a statement on this? Just tell people he’s my bodyguard. I can’t deal with an article like this every time we so much as go out.”

“Already done,” Cheryl says with a wave of her hand. “That’s not the problem. I really don’t care what was going on in this picture, but it looks very intense and therefore very intimate. Am I the only one who’s thinking what I’m thinking?”

Betty looks at her in question before the light goes off in her head. 

“If these are already printed out,” she starts in a whisper, “then it’s only a matter of time before…” she trails off, not finishing but it’s okay. She doesn’t have to. Cheryl nods in agreement. Jughead stands up straight and looks down at the two girls. 

“So what do we do?” 

“We wait,” Cheryl says. “There’s not much we can do. I already released a statement about you being her bodyguard so we just hope that whoever’s stalking her sees the statement before they see this, but—.” 

“That’s very unlikely,” Betty finishes. “Even if he does read the statement it’s unlikely he’ll even care.” 

“Just stay put for a while,” Cheryl tells her as she rubs Betty’s back in comfort. “As far as we know, he doesn’t know where you’re living. Let this cool down for a bit. You’ll have Forsythe here with you. You’re safe.” 

It feels weird hearing him being addressed as Forsythe. She almost corrects Cheryl, but stops herself at the last second. She doesn’t know why, but she wants to keep his nickname to herself. It’s something that only she knows and she likes it that way. It makes her feel special even if it is just him trusting her with his nickname. 

She hates feeling like cold water has just been poured over her. Of course the second one thing goes right in her life, there’s something just waiting to ruin it all. She briefly wonders if maybe she had fucked up royally in another life and that’s why all this was happening to her.

“He won’t get away with this,” Jughead promises. “We’ll find him.”

Betty just nods, not really believing him this time. After all, how do you find a faceless person?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first time writing a slow burn type fic and IT IS SO HARD. I want to get to the good stuff already, but I swore I'd try to take things slow this time. 
> 
> Also, no stalker for two chapters in a row? Whaaaaaat? Take it in, because things aren't going to stay so calm for much longer. 
> 
> I hope you guys liked it and as always, come talk to me on [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com). :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING: ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT.** If this bothers you at all, you may skip past it. It's very obvious where it begins to take place and when Jughead comes into the scene, that's where it ends. You will not miss anything if you decide to skip past this scene. (Nothing actually happens to her though.)
> 
> Hint: If you had your bad thoughts about Nathan's character, well... you were right.
> 
> :(

Archie’s back in Los Angeles for the night and playing a gig at the Hollywood Bowl. Veronica had all but gotten on her knees as she begged Betty to go with her. As skeptical as she was over attending a concert at this time, she agreed. She hadn’t been to a good concert in so long and she enjoyed Archie’s music. 

Jughead, on the other hand, had seemed less than impressed with the whole idea. He’d tried to talk Betty out of it several different times, but in the end she’d got her way. She’d told him that they’d all be backstage and safe so there really wasn’t any reason to worry. Aside from Jughead, there would be tons of security at the amphitheater. 

Betty rummaged through her closet last minute as she tried to find something to wear. It was nice and warm with a slight breeze outside, but she tended to get a little hot during concerts. She wanted to wear something that was both cute and simple. She hadn’t dressed up in a while and she was dying to put a good outfit to use.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she settled on a Parker Irma Lace Off-The-Shoulder white dress and a pair of Stuart Weitzman black leather block heels. She put her hair up in a simple bun and wore light makeup with clear lipgloss to complete the look. It was simple but she felt pretty as she looked at herself in the mirror. She would have fun tonight if it was the last thing she did. 

There was a knock at her bedroom door and Jughead’s tentative voice rung out. 

“Betty? You about ready?” 

“I’m ready!” She called back to him and watched as the door opened up. 

Jughead was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans with a grey shirt hidden underneath a maroon hoodie with a dark blue jean jacket over that. It was how he typically dressed on their casual days, so that’s not what had her thrown off. What had her thrown off over the whole outfit was that he seemed to be wearing what looked like a crown beanie on his head. 

Betty lifted a finger and pointed at the beanie in question. “New?” 

He brought his own hand up to the beanie and touched it before shaking his head. “No, it’s old, like really old.”

“I’ve never seen you wear it before.”

“I was trying to be professional,” he says with a shrug. “We’re going to a concert, though. How professional do I need to be?” 

Betty just laughs. “Well, it’s cute. I like it.” 

“Thanks,” he says easily then he clears his throat. “You look really nice.” He looks away as he says it and Betty wonders why. “Are you sure you won’t get cold out there?” 

“I’m fine. I’ll probably be dancing a lot tonight.”

“Can you even dance to his music?” Jughead asks. “Isn’t it all sad and slow?” 

Betty can’t help the way she cracks up, because he’s right. Archie’s music is super sad. It’s also really sappy and not the kind of stuff you can actually dance to. Slow dance maybe, but that’s about it. It was beautiful music, but it didn’t exactly hype you up. 

“I can pretty much dance to anything,” Betty tells him. “I’m sure the opening act will have more energetic music. He’s touring with Josie and The Pussycats.” 

Jughead nods and Betty wonders if he even knows who Josie and The Pussycats are. He doesn’t seem to be in touch with the latest trends.

“Well, we should probably go if we want to get there in time to see them.” 

Betty nods in agreement as she grabs her purse from her dresser and follows Jughead out of the apartment. 

 

The place is packed when they get there. Betty’s thankful that they don’t have to stand in the long line to get through as they wave VIP cards to the security guard who lets them by. She’s wearing a pair of huge sunglasses until they get backstage so that no one will spot her and cause a scene. 

“Are you thirsty?” Jughead asks as he bends down to press his lips near her ear. It’s loud and hard to hear him. “I can get you something to drink.” Betty wonders if she hides the way she shivers at the closeness of him.

“Sure,” she tells him. “A water, please.” 

He nods and leads her over to the stand, motioning for her to stand off to the side while he gets in line. She does as asked and looks around the venue. It’s going to be a packed show and she’s excited for it. Archie has a really good stage persona that was infectious and his music, sad as it was, was beautiful to listen to. 

Jughead comes back not before long and hands her the bottle water as they make their way to the side stage to get backstage. As soon as they’re let through, they spot Veronica who’s surrounded by a couple of other people, probably friends of Archie’s. 

Betty walks over to her friend and places a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. Veronica turns around and smiles as she sees who it is. 

“Hey, B! I’m so glad you came.” They give each other a hug and Veronica twirls Betty around when they pull away. “You look gorgeous! Is that a new dress?” 

“It’s one I’ve been saving. Good wear?” 

“Definitely! You look adorable.” 

Betty rolls her eyes but smiles. She isn’t sure if she wants to look cute, but she’ll take the compliment. Veronica drags her over to the people she had been talking to before. Betty smiles and says hi, but clocks out of the conversation fairly soon. She’s starving and notices a table set up that has various finger foods on it. She can’t lie and say she just came for Archie’s music, because these concerts usually had amazing food and that may have been what she was actually looking forward to. She grabs a plate and puts two little Philly Cheesesteak sandwiches and some chips on it.

She’s just taken a bite out of the sandwich when a chuckle comes from behind her. She turns around, mouth still full of food, and sees Jughead smirking at her. 

“You know, if you were hungry then you should have said something. I could have made you something.” 

“No, thanks,” she says once she’s swallowed her food. 

“What?” He asks, looking taken aback. “Why not?”

“I don’t trust your cooking skills.”

“You’ve never had my cooking!” 

“For good reason it would seem,” she smirks. 

“I’m a good cook!”

Betty just laughs and nods. “Cheryl said she was a good cook too and then she nearly burned her house down and poisoned us all.” 

Jughead rolls his eyes and huffs out. It’s such a childlike gesture and Betty’s heart clenches at it. He’s been better about being so serious and “work mode” around her all of the time. It’s nice to see him like this, joking around with her and letting loose. He never really has time to just be himself and have fun when she stops to think about it. His whole life right now is literally protecting her. That can’t be too much fun, so she wants him to go out with her and do things that are still exciting and won’t make it seem like he has to be brooding all the time. So far it’s working pretty good. 

“Do you want some?” She asks him, handing him the unbitten sandwich. 

“Uh,” he backs away from her. “I’ve never had one of those.”

“You’ve never had a Philly cheesesteak sandwich?” 

“No, but it sounds less than appealing.” 

“Okay, no.” She will not stand for this slander. “You’re trying it right now. It’s so good.” 

“Betty…” 

“Come on, I promise. Would I lie to you?” He gives her a look and she rolls her eyes. “Okay, well I wouldn’t lie to you about food.” 

He glares at her before taking the sandwich. He stares at it for a while as if trying to decide if it’s suddenly going to jump up and attack him. Finally though, he takes a bit of it and then another bite and then another. 

“I told you,” she sings out. 

“This is amazing,” he sighs out before grabbing another one off of the table. Betty cackles at the action as she nibbles on her chips. 

The rest of their time is spent just hanging out backstage and talking to everyone. Archie comes up to them and introduces himself to Jughead while also filling them in on his travels so far. They get to meet Josie and The Pussycats which has Betty swooning a bit, and apparently Jughead was aware of who they were. It’s all fun, but she’s excited when the lights go off and the music starts. 

Veronica finds her before the first note even rings out and the two of them are already dancing around by the time the first lyric is sung. She feels free and happy, something she hasn’t felt in a while now. She can feel the bass on her skin as she twirls around. She probably looks ridiculous, but she doesn’t care. She’s surrounded by her friends and everything’s good for once. All of the drama that she’s dealing with floats away as she focuses on Josie’s voice and the words she’s singing.

“I’m glad you came,” Veronica yells out. “You need a little fun in your life.” Betty just nods, not even bothering to try and talk over the music. She did need some fun in her life. This is exactly what she needed and she makes a mental note to thank Veronica later. 

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Jughead standing alone. He isn’t dancing, but he’s swaying slowly from side to side. To anyone else it wouldn’t really be deemed swaying. It just looks like he’s switching his weight from foot to foot. Betty knows better though. There’s a dreamy kind of look on his face that lets her know that he’s into the song. She tells Veronica she’ll be back and the brunette happily goes off to find another dancing partner. 

Betty walks up to Jughead and nudges him with her shoulder. “Pretty catchy stuff, huh?” 

“It’s decent.” 

She rolls her eyes. “You love it and you know it. Everyone loves Josie and The Pussycats!” A thought comes to her and she bites her lip thinking it over. 

“Your swaying is a bit old school,” she tells him as she grabs his hand. “Dance with me.” 

“I don’t think that’s professional, Betty.” 

“I thought we weren’t being professional tonight? Isn’t that why you’re wearing this?” She taps his beanie with the hand that isn’t holding his. She tries to focus on the softness of the beanie and not how big and warm his hand feels in hers. She can’t think that, not with Jughead. He’s her bodyguard, a friend at most, but she knows he can’t be anything more. 

“Dance with me,” she repeats. 

He looks at her like he wants to disagree, but she pouts at him and he rolls his eyes before giving in. She takes hold of his other hand and begins to move them back and forth as she shakes her hips. It’s your typical middle school homecoming dance move, but it’s fun. Even Jughead cracks a grin as he humors her, going along with her dancing. The two of them are shimmying around, hands still clutching each other’s and Betty’s heart races. 

Jughead is different. He’s different from any other guy she’s ever been with. Granted she’s not really with him and she hasn’t even been with any other guys before. She’s dated a few guys, of course, but nothing ever serious. She could never see herself being with any of them longterm. She doesn’t know why, but Jughead just seems like the longterm kind of guy. _Longterm bodyguard, longterm friend_ , she reminds herself. 

He’s smiling over at her and he looks so different from the serious asshole she’d thought him to be when she first met him. He had his moments still yes, but he was so much more than just some stoic bodyguard. His eyes were full of life as he looked at her and she wondered if he could see the way she was looking at him right now. She can’t help the way her mind wonders off. What if he wasn’t her bodyguard? What if he was a guy she had met at a coffee shop or a bookstore? Would they still be here right now? Would she be able to cling onto his hand after this song ends like she wants to? 

She shakes her head. _No._ Jesus Christ, what is she thinking? She pulls her hands out of his and smiles nervously. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” she tells him before walking off. They serve good alcohol backstage and that’s exactly what she needs right now. She’s totally going to blame her wondering thoughts on the fact that the Pussycats just played I Feel Love and it’s one of their most sensual songs. 

“Damn Josie,” she whispers to herself as she tells to bartender to make her a gin and tonic. 

 

Archie’s singing now and Betty’s way past being tipsy. She had been stumbling around and talking to Veronica. That was until some guy tried touching her ass and Jughead pulled her away immediately with a few choice words at the man. 

“You never let me have fun,” Betty whines as Jughead places her in front of him, hands on her shoulders so that she can’t move too far from him. “You’re such a fun sucker!” 

“That makes no sense,” he tells her. He’s back to his serious bodyguard tone and it annoys Betty more than anything. 

“What happened to fun Jughead? Where did he go?” 

“I can’t have fun when I’m worrying about your drunk ass.” 

Betty whirls around and looks at Jughead in shock, mouth dropped wide open. 

“Did you just—?”

He shushes her, not letting her finish her question, but he’s smirking at her so Betty lets it slide. If he smiles then it’s okay. 

The song changes and the first chords of I’ll Try come on. 

“Oh, I love this one!” Betty swoons. It was an old song, once Archie supposedly wrote back when he was in high school but it’s a classic. It’s her favorite. “Dance with me.” 

“You’re drunk,” Jughead reminds her. “You can’t even stand up straight on your own.” 

Betty pouts realizing he’s right. The only reason she’s standing up right now is because he hasn’t let go of her shoulders. She makes to turn away from him, but then Jughead sighs and the next thing she knows she’s being picked up from under her armpits and turned around. She squeals out and looks at him in confusion as he places her feet on top of his. 

“Hold on to me,” he tells her. 

She wraps her arms around his shoulders and he places his around her waist, holding onto her tightly. He begins to move them slowly and gently around and Betty smiles as she realizes what he’s doing for her. It’s something she used to do with her dad when she was younger and her heart clenches as they move along to the music. They’re dancing. He’s dancing for her. It’s something so simple, yet it’s everything to her. 

She places her head onto his chest and closes her eyes. 

“Thank you,” she tells him. She doesn’t know why she’s thanking him and she doesn’t know if he even hears her, but he squeezes her a little tighter and she can tell he’s smiling too. 

 

They go to In-N-Out after the concert. She’s starving. Alcohol always makes her a little hungry. 

“I want all the burgers!” 

“You can get one burger, Betty.”

“No!” She cries. “Hello?” She calls out to the box, leaning over Jughead.

“Hi, may I take your order?”

“All the burgers!” 

“Oh, my god.” Jughead pushes her back and glares at her. 

“Excuse me?” The person taking their order says. 

“Can I please have one cheeseburger?” He gives Betty a look as he says it, warning her to stay quiet. She just glares back. “And a strawberry shake?”

Betty smiles sweetly at him, hearts in her eyes. She hadn’t told him she wanted a shake, but he knew her so well. The worker tells them to drive forward and Jughead rolls up his window as he does. 

“A shake!” Betty shouts. “For me?”

“Yes,” he sighs. 

“What a king,” she swoons, placing her hand on her forehead as she puts her head on Jughead’s shoulder and bats her eyes up at him. 

“Stop that.” 

“Why didn’t you get something?” She asks him as she sits up. 

“I think I had enough Philly Cheesesteaks.” 

“Ah ha! I told you they were good.” 

Jughead just rolls his eyes. They get their food and then they head back to the apartment. Betty sips at her shake the way there, but doesn’t touch her burger or fries. She likes to eat while she watches TV. 

They get to the apartment and are about to use the elevators in the parking garage when Betty remembers that she left her purse in the car. 

“I’ll go get it,” Jughead tells her even though he’s already carrying her food and her heels. 

“I can get it,” she says with an eye roll. “You didn’t park far.” 

He looks unsure, like he really doesn’t want to let her go. 

“Wait for the elevator.” The elevators have been acting up lately and it takes a while to get one. “I’ll yell out if I need you.”

Jughead finally gives in and nods, making his way to the elevators. 

“Be quick, please.” 

She nods and walks off towards the car, still sipping at her shake. Jughead had unlocked it before he went to the elevators so she’s quick about opening the passengers door and reaching in to get the Chanel bag. 

She closes the door and stands up straight. As soon as she turns around though, she nearly yells out in surprise. The guy from the gym, Nathan, is standing in front of her. His eyes are red and dilated at the same time. He’s smiling at her in a really creepy way and it gives her the chills. He doesn’t look so handsome now.

“Fun night out?” He asks her. 

“I was at a concert.” She’s civil with him. She doesn’t know that anything’s up right now. Maybe he just wants to talk. 

“I saw your boy was with you.” She’s confused about who he’s talking about when she remembers that he saw her at the gym with Jughead. He doesn’t know that Jughead’s just her bodyguard. “I didn’t want to come up to you when he was around. He seems a bit possessive.” 

It’s not the right word to use. Protective is definitely right, but not possessive. Possessive is something that a boyfriend is. However, Nathan doesn’t need to know this. He’s sending her a ton of bad vibes right now and even though she’s still a bit tipsy, she can notice the way his mouth smells like alcohol too. She can see the predatory look in his eyes and she knows that he isn’t about to be as nice as he was that one afternoon. 

“He is,” she lies to him. 

Nathan hums out. “Well, he isn’t here right now, is he?” 

“Actually—.” Before she can finish the sentence, Nathan lunges at her, attaching his lips to hers. He tastes like alcohol and something else, something chemical. She bites at his lips harshly and he hisses as he pulls back. 

She opens her mouth but before she can even scream, Nathan claps him palm over her mouth. 

“I don’t fucking think so.” He places his hand onto her mouth to stop her from yelling out and she goes blank. There’s no way this is happening. This cannot be happening. She shuts her eyes tightly as one of his clammy hands snakes its way underneath her dress. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. 

“You have the softest skin,” he whispers into her ear. His breath is hot and she shivers in disgust. 

_This won’t happen._ She won’t let it. 

She drops her milkshake to the ground, not even knowing why she was still holding onto it, and brings her knee up and stomps down on Nathan’s foot. 

“Ow!” He yells out. 

“Jughead!” She screams as soon as he pulls his hand away. “Jughead!” She screams it so loud, her throat immediately hurts afterward. It doesn’t hurt as badly though as the impact she feels on her cheek once Nathan learns what she’s done.

“You fucking bitch,” he snarls out. He lifts up his hand again and Betty braces herself for the impact. It never comes though. 

“What the fuck?” Nathan yells out as Jughead grabs his hand and twists it around. 

Betty slides back against the car and watches as Jughead punches him twice in the face before bringing the top half of his body down to knee him in the gut. It doesn’t look like trained fighting, this looks like street fighting. She wonders if there’s a reason why he’s fighting like this. 

Nathan falls to the floor and Jughead gets on top of him, punching him repeatedly in the face over and over again. She wasn’t sure when she started crying but as she yells out for Jughead to stop, she notices the way her voice breaks. He doesn’t listen to her though. 

“Jughead, stop! Stop!” She stands up from where she was sitting and walks over to him. She knows what she’s about to do is dangerous, but she doesn’t care. She can’t let Jughead kill him. Not because she gives a shit about Nathan, no. He can rot in hell for all she cares. She doesn’t want Jughead to have that kind of blood on his hands though. 

She reaches out and grabs Jughead’s fist. He snaps his head around to see whose touched him and Betty gasps at the look in his eyes. It’s one she’s never seen before. He looks like someone else completely, someone dangerous but he still doesn’t scare Betty. Instead she feels more safe than she ever has before. 

“Stop,” she tells him gently. “You’ll kill him.” 

“Then let me.” 

The words startle her. He looks so different from the man she knows and her heart aches at the way he’s changed so quickly. How did their day turn into this? 

“Jughead,” she begs, “please. Don’t do this. I don’t want you to do this.” 

He continues to stare at her with the wild look in his eyes. And then he blinks. He blinks and suddenly she can see him again. The anger is still there in full force, but it’s not fueling this anymore. 

“Are you okay?” He asks her. 

“Yes,” she tells him, but she’s not sure if she means it. 

“Your lip,” he whispers out. She reaches up with her fingers and hisses as she touches her bottom lip. It’s busted from where Nathan had first hit her. 

“It’s okay,” she tells him. It’ll heal. A busted lip isn’t going to bother her. 

Jughead just stares at her hardly, chest moving up and down heavily as he pants out. 

“Did he touch you?” 

“No,” she promises. “He didn’t. You didn’t let him. You protected me.” His shoulders sag and he doesn’t seem as tense as soon as she says it. “Just like you always do and just like you always will.” 

“Betty,” he says as he gets up from Nathan, “I’m so sorry.” He walks up towards her and reaches his hand up to place on her cheek. She leans into his touch and his thumb brushes the area near her lip, but he doesn’t touch it in fear of hurting her. “I should have come with you.” 

“Don’t. Don’t blame yourself. This isn’t your fault.” 

“I need to call the cops,” he tells her, but he doesn’t move his hand from her face. She just nods at his words. He doesn’t seem to want to stop touching her, almost as if he’s scared of letting go of her. Betty understands it, she doesn’t want him to stop either, and so she pulls her cheek out of his grasp and leans into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. He exhales as he wraps one arm around her waist protectively and then reaches into his pocket with the other to grab ahold of his phone.

She doesn’t pay attention to the words he says as he talks to the cops. She just keeps her head buried into his chest. She’s not crying anymore. She just feels numb now. 

Jughead must have hung up the phone because he weaves his other hand through her hair and runs it through it soothingly. It’s comforting and Betty shuts her eyes. 

Its funny, she thinks to herself, it’s almost the exact same position they had been in earlier at the concert but now it’s for an entirely different reason. And this time, she doesn’t feel the same happiness as she had earlier. Now she feels empty. 

She looks at Nathan in anger. His face is bloody as he lays on the floor unconscious, but she can see his chest rise and fall slowly. In a moment of hatred she wishes it would stop rising. He took tonight from her. It was supposed to be perfect. It was supposed to allow her and Jughead to become closer. She feels his hand in her hair and she realizes that she kind of did get what she wanted. In the most literal sense, she has never been this close to Jughead before. 

She almost laughs in disbelief. 

Not for the first time she wonders what she did in a previous life to deserve this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Betty begins to feel anger at her life as everything begins to pile up onto her. Jughead turns up the heat on #ProtectBettyCooperAtAllCosts. Jughead also confronts Betty on how she seems to rely on drinking which leads to one steamy confession. Our stalker is back and he helps out Betty... in a very demented way.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say right here and now that I absolutely love every single one of you? Seriously, ya'lls comments make my entire day. I adore you guys so much. <3

She can’t sleep. 

She tosses and turns and stares out of her window. She watches the city beneath her as everyone continues on with their lives. She hasn’t slept in days. Every time she closes her eyes she sees Nathan’s face. She can feel his clammy, sweaty hands on her leg. She can smell the alcohol on his breath and the only way she can make it stop is by opening up her eyes again. 

She reminds herself that he can’t get to her anymore. Nathan Anderson, aged thirty, is now an inmate behind bars. Besides the fact that he had tried to force himself onto her that night, he had also been drunk while on probation for a DUI and had apparently been high off of two different substances. Betty could have guessed all of that. The nasty, chemically taste she remembered was embedded into her brain. She had brushed her teeth for an hour afterwards, but she swore she could still taste it. The cops had told her that it was a wonder he wasn’t dead. 

How lucky for him. 

A car honks loudly outside and Betty finally sits up from her bed. She unlocks her phone to see that it’s two in the morning. She’s been trying to sleep since ten, but she knows it won’t come to her. The circles under her eyes are getting darker every second, but she can’t find it in herself to care. Veronica had mentioned that she should take sleeping pills, but Betty had turned that idea down. She doesn’t want to sleep. If she sleeps then she’ll see him and she doesn’t want that. 

She stands up from the bed and quietly walks to the kitchen. She doesn’t want to wake up Jughead. She doesn’t think she can deal with him right now. Aside from the fact that she can’t get him out of her mind, he’s been hovering over her relentlessly ever since the incident with Nathan. She understands the sudden heighten of his protective instincts, especially because they had thought that Nathan might have had some sort of link to her stalker. He denied knowing any kind of information though and seemed genuinely confused whenever it was brought up to him. That left them with the cold truth that she wasn’t completely safe yet. Apparently she wasn’t safe at all. 

The incident with Nathan wasn’t all that new to her sadly. She’d had guys get a little too touchy before in the past. Just because she was a model, guys assumed that it meant she was an easy girl who was ready to have sex with whoever whenever. It was just the way some guy’s minds worked. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and it most likely wouldn’t be the last. It had never gotten that far though and that’s what kind of had her freaked out. 

What if Jughead hadn’t been there? It’s a thought that’s been in the back of her mind ever since that night. She tries not to think about it too much because she knows that no good is going to come out of it. Still it lingers in the back of her mind, refusing to go away no matter how much she begs it to.

The kitchen is dark and empty when she reaches it and she only turns on the sink light. Jughead’s room is right next to the kitchen and living room area and she’s scared that if she turns on too much light then he’ll wake up. She walks over to the stove and stares at an empty tea pot on it. She could make a cup of tea, that would be nice. It might even calm her and help her sleep. 

Then she switches her gaze over to the red wine next to the fruit basket. 

She had never been a huge drinker. She’s nowhere near being an alcoholic and she doesn’t think she’s ever drank this much before in her entire life. These days though, she feels like the only way she can relax and get away from the harsh reality of her life is by drinking her problems away. Things are much better whenever she’s drunk. 

It’s not even a close competition. She grabs the bottle off of the counter and pulls a wine glass from the cabinet. She’s not classy or conservative about pouring it, stopping only when its about to pour over the top of the glass. She doesn’t even really enjoy the taste of red wine and it takes her a while it feel anything from it, but right now she’ll take what she can get. It’s not like she has a bartender in her apartment, although she could always look into getting one. 

She walks over to the balcony, taking the wine bottle and her glass along with her. She’s careful to close the door quietly behind herself. The city never sleeps at night was something she heard constantly in songs and on Tv, but she never realized just how true it was until she moved to Los Angeles. No matter what time it was, the city was always wide awake. She wondered who the people walking on the sidewalks were. What were they doing up so late? Did they just come back from a party? Were they just walking because they were bored? Maybe they were leaving a friend’s house. Maybe they were like her and had something on their mind that kept them awake at night. Maybe she should try going for a walk. That could help her out. 

She finishes the glass of wine quickly and she’s about to pour herself another glass when she thinks better of it. 

“Might as well drink from the bottle,” she laughs to herself humorlessly. “Not like my life could get anymore tragic than it already is.” She places her glass on the edge of the balcony and takes a swig. It somehow tastes a lot better coming from the bottle and she finds herself drinking it in stride. She sits on the edge of the balcony railing, pressing her back against the side wall for balance. 

The thought of paparazzi getting a picture of this comes to her mind and she cackles as she pulls the bottle down. She can see the headlines now. “Pitiful Model Chugs Wine Bottle For All of LA To See”. Well, let them see. Her life is already public viewing for anyone and everyone. Who cares if this makes the front page? Not her. Not anymore. 

The news about Nathan had hit the stands that morning. Her team had tried to keep it as under wraps as they could, but some young cop that had been at the scene had told a person who told a person who told everyone. Now everyone knew about poor little Betty Cooper who had almost been a victim of sexual assault. The thought makes her take another swig from the bottle. She doesn’t want to be the innocent girl who can’t take care of herself. She never wanted to be that, yet here she was. 

She doesn’t know how long she’s outside on the balcony for. She doesn’t even think about it until she goes to take another sip of wine and she finds out that she’s finished the entire bottle. 

“Holy shit,” she whispers to herself in surprise. She’s about to turn and hop off the railing she’s been sitting on when the door to the balcony opens up and there stands Jughead. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He hisses out at her. “It’s 3:30 in the morning! Why are you sitting there? You’re going to fall.” His eyes zoom in on the bottle that Betty had been trying to hide under her leg and his eyes narrow over at her.

“You’re drinking?” He asks in disbelief. “While sitting on the edge of a balcony? What the hell is wrong with you? You could kill yourself!” She doesn’t move, she just stares at him blankly. “Jesus Christ, Betty.” He walks over to her and helps her down. She hadn’t even realized that she was a bit drunk until she sets her feet on the ground and tries to walk. She trips into Jughead and giggles as he catches her. 

“Whoops.”

“Whoops?” He echoes. “ _Whoops?_ Betty, this isn’t funny!” She keeps on laughing though. It is funny. It’s so funny. Everything is funny. 

Jughead just sighs, seeing that his words aren’t going to make any difference at all to her. 

“Come on,” he tells her, sounding a lot less angry and more exhausted. “Let’s just go inside.” 

She follows him, still giggling behind him. 

She laughs when he closes the door even though it’s not funny. She laughs when he tries to take the empty bottle of wine from her hands. She laughs as they start a not so friendly game of tug of war. She laughs as Jughead yells at her to give her the bottle. She laughs when he tells her to stop laughing. 

“You want the bottle?” She taunts, still laughing. “Come get it.” She yanks it out of his hands, but she uses too much force and it goes flying behind her, shattering on the hard floor. 

Both of them stare at the bottle in silence for a few seconds. 

And then Betty starts laughing again. She laughs so hard that tears start to form in her eyes. Jughead’s yelling about something, but she isn’t paying attention to him anymore. The tears continue to roll down her cheeks and she doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she isn’t laughing anymore. 

She’s sobbing loud and so hard that her entire chest hurts. Why is she crying? She doesn’t know why she’s crying, but now that she’s started, she can’t stop. As soon as Jughead sees that she isn’t laughing anymore, he disregards the glass on the floor and runs over to her. 

She sobs into his chest, hands fisting his shirt. He places a hand on her hair and smooths in down while the other is against her back, rubbing soothing circles into it. Betty’s knees give out beneath her and she crumbles. Jughead holds on to her and doesn’t let her fall. Instead he slowly goes down with her, bringing both of them to a sitting position on the floor. 

“I can’t do this,” she cries to him. 

“You don’t have to,” he whispers to her. “Betty, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand what she’s trying to say. She knows. She knows exactly what she’s talking about. She doesn’t answer him back. She doesn’t know how long they stay there on the floor; her crying and him trying to soothe her, she’s just aware that one minute she’s there and the next everything is black. 

 

When she wakes up, she’s not in her own bed. She’s in a bed with black sheets that swallow her whole. It’s soft, somehow it feels insanely softer than her bed. It doesn’t take too long for her to figure out where she is. She must be in Jughead’s room. She remembers the previous night, of course she does because she hardly ever drinks enough to where she forgets things. She’s embarrassed by how she had acted, but she can alway just blame it on the wine. She doubts Jughead will judge her over it. 

She just doesn’t understand why she’s in his room. She gets up from his bed and walks out of the room. 

Jughead sits at the kitchen table. There’s nothing in front of him and she wonders how long he’s been there and what he’s been doing. 

“Hi,” she timidly says. Her voice breaks and her throat is a bit scratchy. It must be from last night. “Why was I in your room?” 

“You insisted that you couldn’t sleep in your own bed. You said you had nightmares in it.” 

Oh. Now that she thinks about it, last night was the best sleep she had gotten in a while. “Where did you sleep?” 

“The couch.” 

She feels bad for kicking him out of his own room, but something in his voice lets her know that he doesn’t really want to talk about it so she doesn’t say anything else. She notices that he must have cleaned up the broken glass at some point, because the spot where the wine bottle fell is now spotless. 

“You know,” he speaks up again, staring out of the kitchen window, “when I was little my mom was my world. My family was a really close one. Dinner every night, breakfast every morning before school, Saturdays at the park, Sunday’s spent at the movies or at home together.” He smiles softly as if he’s remembering something. 

“My mom was the glue that held my family together. She was a saint and the most amazing person I had ever met. I would watch my parents together and I would always tell myself that one day I’d find someone like my mom. Someone with a kind heart and so much love to give.” 

“Jughead,” Betty says, once he pauses. “I don’t understand.” He looks over at her and gives her a sad smile. 

“My mom was a good woman. She was. But I think that maybe she was _too_ good of a woman. She spent her entire life being the perfect wife and the perfect mother and I don’t think she ever really wanted to be either one.” Betty furrows her eyebrows. She doesn’t know where this story is going, but it’s not anywhere good. “One day when I came home from school, I found her drinking a bottle of Vodka straight.” 

“You have to understand,” he says, “my parents didn’t drink. As far as I was concerned, my parents had never touched alcohol before in their lives yet there my mother was, laying down on the couch with bloodshot eyes and a half empty Vodka bottle. She swore it was a one time thing, she just needed to get the edge off. I didn’t know what she was talking about or what bothered her so badly that she felt the need to drink, but I believed her. She made me promise to never tell my dad so I promised her.” 

“Things stayed the same for a while, no big deal. I thought that the whole deal was just a one time thing. Then one day on a Saturday, my dad told my sister and I that my mother wouldn’t be joining us for our Saturday at the park and I knew… I knew that it wasn’t just a one time thing.” 

“Alcohol tore my family apart and it turned my mother into a shell of a woman. It killed our family and it killed her.” The words stun Betty and she goes completely still. This is the first time Jughead has ever mentioned anything about his family to her and it’s possibly the darkest part of his life. 

“I’m so sorry,” she tells him. 

He just ignores her. “I told myself that I’d never let myself get close to someone who was like that again. I watched my mother destroy herself, but I’d be damned if I ever had to go through that again with someone else.” 

He gives her a pointed look, one that’s so full of so many different emotions, and she finally understands the point of his story. 

“I’m not an alcoholic,” she says, offended that he’s even accusing her of that. 

“I’m not saying you are, Betty. I don’t think you’re one, but you lean on alcohol like it’s a crutch and that’s how my mother started out.” 

“I drink occasionally,” she bites out. “Everyone does!”

“I don’t.” 

She wants to lash out at his words, say something sarcastic but she can’t. She can’t say that to him, especially not after what he’s just told her. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she says instead. 

“I don’t want you to say anything. I just want you to understand that I’m not going to sit here and watch you drink your problems away every time something goes wrong in your life. You downed a whole bottle of wine last night!” He stands up from the table and stands at the other end of the bar that she’s currently resting against. 

“It was one bottle,” she starts but stops herself when she realizes what she’s just said. 

“It’s not right and you know it,” he tells her. “You don’t need to turn to alcohol.”

“What do you suppose I do?” She says with an eye roll. 

“Talk to people!” He yells out. “Talk to Cheryl, talk to Veronica, talk to your nail lady, talk to your team.” He pauses and stares at the ground before looking back up and locking their eyes together. “Talk to me. I’m here for you, Betty. I know I’m just your bodyguard, but you can talk to me about whatever’s bothering you.” 

She scoffs. “No, I can’t.” The reason behind why she had started drinking over at Archie’s concert comes running back into her mind. What would Jughead do if he knew about why she started drinking that night? 

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t.” 

“I want to be here for you,” he practically begs, walking around to bar and over to her. “Just tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Drop it.” She steps away from the bar, but he just mimics her steps. 

“Betty—.” 

“Don’t.” 

“Just talk to me, please.” 

“Fine!” She yells out, tossing her hands into the air. “You want to know what’s bothering me? Maybe it’s the fact that I have some crazy stalker out there who’s determined to either keep me locked in his basement forever or kill me. Maybe it’s because some drugged out criminal assaulted me right next to my car! Maybe it’s because I’m sick and tired of having my entire life on display all the time. I’m tired of everyone painting me as some naive little girl who can’t handle herself. And you know what else I’m sick of?” She can’t stop the words. Even if she wanted to, she can’t. Now that she’s started ranting, she can’t stop. 

“I’m sick of you!” She yells out and Jughead’s eyes widen, hurt pooling in the green blue of them. “I’m sick of you being everywhere I go! I’m sick of having you around me 24/7. But you know what else? It’s not even really you that I’m mad at, it’s myself. I’m mad at myself because I know the stupid smell of your cologne and what cereal you like to eat for breakfast. I’m mad because I can’t stop thinking about how your hands feel in mine. I’m mad because ever since the concert I can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to be with you, but I can’t do that because you’re my bodyguard and I know what’s at stake here.” 

Jughead just stares at her completely shellshocked. 

“I’m mad because every guy I’ve ever been interested in has always only been interested in sleeping with me and then there’s you. I can’t stop thinking about you and you probably don’t even think twice about me unless you’re trying to save my life or you’re getting your check.” 

“Betty,” he whispers out, looking torn. 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” she says, biting her lip to hide the fact that it’s wobbling. “Tell me you feel even the slightest thing for me.” 

He opens and closes his mouth several times, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, voice soft and regretful. “I don’t.”

The words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do. She doesn’t even really like Jughead. She just can’t get this dumb image of them together out of her mind and it’s all because he danced with her at an Archie Andrews’ concert. She’s pathetic. Maybe everyone is right. Maybe she is just some dumb, naive little girl who doesn’t know better. 

“That’s what I thought,” she replies emptily as she nods her head in acceptance. 

“I’m sorry, Betty.” He moves forward, arm extended out like he wants to comfort her, but she moves away from him. 

“Don’t be sorry,” she tries to smile at him, but she doesn’t know if it looks genuine or forced. “It’s probably just because I’ve been a little emotional lately and you’re kind of the only guy in my life right now, but don’t worry. I’ll get over it soon enough.” 

She turns around and walks away from him and goes to her room. She doesn’t stay to see what else he has to say or to listen to him apologize again. She’s used to being on her own. Jughead Jones rejecting her isn’t going to change any of that. She knows she’s kidding herself when she told him she’d get over it. Now that she’s admitted to herself that she feels something for him, the feelings are not likely to go away. She knows what it’s like to have feelings for someone who will never reciprocate them though. She’s gotten over something like this once before and she can do it again. She’s a model, not an actor but she’s always been good at playing pretend. 

 

It’s Friday afternoon and it’s been a few days since she confessed her feelings to Jughead, and things are finally starting to get back to normal between them. He seemed to be walking on eggshells around her at first, but she played things cool and acted like everything was normal between them. She didn’t know if Jughead was buying her act, but it seemed to work either way. 

“I was thinking we could order in,” Betty tells him as they walk back up from the gym. She’s sweating more than she ever has before. Jughead’s been helping her workout and his workout is a lot more intense than her usual running on the treadmill. 

“Chinese?”

“You know me too well, Jughead Jones.” She jokes around with him and acts like it doesn’t hurt her to act so nonchalant. 

When they get to the apartment, there’s a white letter taped onto the door. 

“It’s probably the front desk or something,” Betty groans as she grabs it. They’ve left her a few letters like this about upcoming events and stuff like that. She doesn’t know why they hand deliver them instead of just putting them in the mailbox, but oh well. 

They go inside and she walks over to the kitchen table, sitting down as she rips open the envelope. She pulls out the contents and unfolds the papers that were inside of it. 

Her blood goes cold as she stares at the picture in her hand. 

“Holy shit,” Jughead calls out from the living room. Betty turns her head towards him and sees that he’s watching the tv which is turned onto the local news channel. 

“Turn it up,” she instructs him. 

_”…killed him. It seems as though this was a murder done in cold blood, but the question here is why and who?”_ A man speaks to them before the scene cuts to the exact same picture she had just been starting at. It’s Nathan. He’s blurred out here on the screen for viewers, but Betty won’t get the picture of him nearly gutted out of her mind anytime soon. He’s slumped against the wall of a prison cell and he’s been stabbed multiple times all over. 

_”It’s unclear who the suspect in this killing is. Whoever did this was very sure where to hide from cameras and was very discreet about their plan. Nathan Anderson had been locked up for less than a week for the assault towards Los Angeles located supermodel, Betty Cooper—.”_

“Turn it off,” Betty tells Jughead and he does as she asks.

“Betty, are you okay?”

She doesn’t say anything. She just holds up the picture she had been given. It’s the exact same one the news had showed, but written in red Sharpie are the words: _You’re welcome._

“I didn’t want this,” she tells Jughead, eyes watering. “I didn’t want him dead! I didn’t want that!” 

Jughead’s eyes widen before he shakes his head and controls his features into a mask that shows her he’s serious. “Betty, he’s just killed a man or at the least, had a mad killed. This changes everything. He’s more dangerous than we knew and he somehow found out where you lived again? Fuck.” He runs his hands over his face in frustration. “We need to call Cheryl and the cops.” 

“What are the cops going to do?” She cries out. “They’ve done nothing! They can’t help me. No one can help me. I’m on my own with this.”

“I can help you,” he tells her. “Let me help you.” 

She stares at him coldly. 

“You want to help me? Teach me how to defend myself. I saw the way you were fighting the other night with Nathan. I want you to teach me how to fight like that.”

“Betty…” he sighs out. 

“No. You won’t always be there to protect me and I’m sick of letting this bastard ruin my life. I’m not going to move apartments and I’m not going to sit here in fear.” She stands up taller and crosses her arms over her chest. “Teach me how to fight so that way when he finally shows his face, I’ll know what to do.” 

Jughead looks at her like he’s torn between telling her no and giving in. 

“Are you sure?” He asks her. 

“Yes,” she says confidently. “I’m not going to be the weak little girl you all think I am. I’m tired of letting people protect me. I’m going to protect myself now.” 

She picks her hair up and wraps it into a bun, tying it in place. 

“What are you doing?” He asks her. 

“We’re starting now,” she says. “Teach me.” 

She stands tall and strong and Jughead tilts his head at her before nodding. He stands in front of her, eyes hard as he studies her. He’s not looking at her like he usually does, like she’s a small and delicate thing who needs to be sheltered. He’s looking at her, studying her, trying to see just how serious she is about this. He must see that she isn’t joking around, because he holds out a hand in front of her as he finally gives in. 

“Hit my hand as hard as you can.” 

She curls her hand into a fist and does as he asked. 

“Harder.” 

She punches his hand again.

“Harder.”

Again. 

“Harder, Betty! Like you mean it.” 

She reels her fist back and snaps it forward with all her might, imagining a hoodie figure in the place of his hand. Jughead smiles at her. 

“Good.” He nods. “Let’s start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BADASS BETTY SAY WHAAAAAAAT?
> 
> Also, is Jughead being sincere when he says he doesn't feel anything for Betty? Hmmmm... ;)
> 
> Sorry if any of ya'll were expecting something to happen between them here. I'm really trying my hand at this slow burn thing, mwahaha. But at least Betty's feelings are out in the open now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter so far! Over 7,000 words!  
> & A few things I'd like to say before we start! 
> 
> -First off! This little chapter is dedicated to vintagelovestories over on Tumblr. I hope you feel better, sweetness. <3
> 
> \- My good friend, itstenafterfour over on Tumblr, sent me a video to help me out while writing the training scenes with Betty and Jughead. It's a really helpful video in case you're ever in a situation where you have to protect yourself against sexual assault. I encourage everyone to watch the video, which you can find [here](https://itstenafterfour.tumblr.com/post/161447538785/slut-lester-madiithepand0rk-hayei). 
> 
> -Also thank you to @itstenafterfour for proofreading this for me and for giving me so many great ideas and making this chapter better! You’re the greatest beta. <3
> 
> -We have also made Every Breath You Take by Chase Holfelder the official theme song of Wicked Games. Seriously. Go listen to this song on YouTube. It's hella creepy. And a good song to go with this chapter is Run by Elsa & Emilie. 
> 
> -I may or may not have given Betty a fucking praise kink, lmao. So like... I'm sorry I'm like this. 
> 
> -The commercial that Betty does in this chapter is based off of the Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue fragrance commercial. 
> 
> -There’s a lot of freaking pining and scheming starting now and these two losers in love being really dumb. :) 
> 
> ALSO! It mentions that there’s an article about Betty’s bodyguard being the one who saved her from Nathan. The article does NOT mention who her bodyguard is, therefore no one knows who Jughead actually is to her.

Jughead straddles her waist, her hands are pinned to the floor by his larger ones and he’s panting in her ear. If she focuses, she can _feel_ the way his chest contracts against hers, and how heavy his breathing is. She can feel his heartbeat against her own. She tries not to focus on it, but she can’t help it. 

“You’re unfocused,” he pants in her ear. He’s so close to her, his lips are grazing her ear and she wants to scream at him to get off and pull him closer against her at the same time. He tilts his head closer towards her, his lips are near her neck now and she wonders if he’s doing this on purpose. There’s no way he doesn’t notice what he’s doing, but he’s the one who said he didn’t have feelings for her. She’s confused; confused and slightly turned on. “What’s got you so unfocused? This is really serious stuff.” 

_The fact that if I pick up my hips, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to feel your dick against me._

“Nothing,” she grunts out instead. “You’re crushing me!” 

“That’s the point, Elizabeth.” She glares at the use of her full name. “I’m supposed to be crushing you. You’re the one who needs to make sure that we don’t get to this point.” 

“This isn’t fair! I’m a beginner.” They’re starting their self-defense classes and Betty’s taking it as seriously as possible, but she would be lying if she said that she doesn’t sometimes purposely mess that one move up so that way she and Jughead end up in the exact position they’re in right now. She said she’d move on from him and the little crush she’s harboring, and she will, but for now, she’s kind of content pining. 

“Do you think your attacker is going to go easy on you because you’re a _beginner_?” He tosses back at her, sounding pretty annoyed actually and Betty blushes in embarrassment. She closes her eyes and sighs in disappointment. He can feel her breath on him and tries to ignore the shivers he can feel go up his spine. 

“No,” she whispers. 

“Exactly. Look, when sexual assault happens, the assailant is usually like this.” Jughead puts his hands on her shoulders and leans up against her chest. “Usually touching really inappropriately and whatnot.” She should not be thinking of Jughead touching her _inappropriately_ but she is. He then climbs off of her and she has to stop herself from pouting. She sits up, placing her hands on the ground but Jughead puts the tip of his Nike shoe on her chest and pushes her back down gently. “Did I say for you to get up?”

“What?” She asks, bewildered. “I thought we were done here.” 

“Not just yet. Lay back down.” 

She would be embarrassed about how quickly she does as he says, but she isn’t. She’s sure she’s not the only woman out there who would gladly lay down if Jughead told them to. 

“You with me?” He asks her and she just nods silently. _Hell yes, I’m with you._ “Okay, we’re going to do the shrimp technique again and then we’ll call it a day.”

The shrimp technique. It had been the first move Jughead had shown her and she had mastered it pretty easy. Jughead kneels back onto the floor in front of her and she widens her legs for him. She tries to ignore the throb she feels just looking at Jughead position himself between her legs. She’s never been the one for kinky stuff during sex, but Jughead is so much bigger than her and he completely covers her as he leans over her; she can’t help but think what he’d be like in bed. Kevin had said that he looked like he was into kinky shit. Would he hold her down, make her beg for it? Would he make her beg for it and bring her to the edge only to pull away at the last minute? Was he slow and sensual or rough and dominant? 

“Betty?” He questions out. 

“Uh huh?” 

“You just moaned.” 

Her eyes snap open and she looks at him in horror. She hadn’t realized where her mind had been spiraling off to, and she definitely didn’t want to admit it.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks her and she notices that he looks worried instead of freaked out. “I’m trying not to put too much pressure on you.” 

“No!” She reassures him. “Sorry, I got a cramp. You can put more pressure on me!” _Way to be subtle, Betty._ She feels anxiety bubble in the bottom of her stomach, thinking her comment made her sound way too easy. “It’s what an attacker would do, right?” She added rapidly, hoping to diffuse the possibility of him misconstruing her voice. 

“Okay, let's do it quick. I’m going to act like I’m actually your attacker, okay? Show me you can defend yourself.” His voice practically growled at her. It’s funny, she thinks to herself, the way she feels an undeniable need to impress Jughead. She’s supposed to be learning all this stuff for herself, and she is, but she loves the praise he gives her when she does something right. She’s used to people praising her because she has a pretty face or a nice body, but Jughead does it because she’s done something good, because she’s impressed him. It’s a feeling like no other. 

“Okay.” 

It’s quick, but she’s expecting it. He bucks into her a bit roughly and brings his chest down to put all his weight on her and hold her down. Betty extends her arms out, completely straight, and pushes him up and off of her. When she pushes up, he slides back a little away from her and she picks up her right leg and places it onto his thigh, pushing him as hard as she can, clearly throwing him a bit off balance. When she pushes him far enough, she brings up her left leg and positions it on the side of his body and uses both legs to push him off of her. She puts her legs into a kicking position and acts like she’s about to kick him in the face. Jughead grabs her by the ankle and smirks at her, more out of pride than anything else. 

“Good,” he tells her. “That was really good.” 

She bites her lip as she tries to hide her cool, but she’s beaming on the inside. 

“Proud?” She asks him with a smirk. 

He smiles and squeezes her ankle. “Always.” He then lets go of her ankle and stands up, holding out a hand for her to grab onto as he helps her up. Jughead puts his hand on her waist as he helps her to her feet, making her feel like she could practically melt into his arms. Even though they were practicing self-defense to prevent a rape of all horrible things, she felt strangely turned on by the whole practice, and more than a little hot and bothered. He had been pressed against her chest and hips, could you blame her? He moves his hand off of her waist, and she tries not to show her disappointment on her face. 

“Cheryl’s coming by today,” she informs him. “I think she said she found a new shoot for me to do.” 

“Any idea what it is?” Jughead always seems wary when she tells him she has to do photoshoots. He’s been on edge lately and Betty can completely understand why. She likes how protective he seems to be over her. She just wishes it was for other reasons besides just being her bodyguard. 

“No, but I hope it’s good.”

\------------

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Please tell me you’re playing a really sick game on me right now.”

“No. You said you wanted to get into commercials. This is the perfect time for that.” 

“I thought you said this was a photoshoot! And I didn’t know this was what I’d be getting!” 

Betty is not being dramatic, she’s not. Anyone else would be acting the exact same way if they have just gotten told the news she did. Or well, maybe not actually. She’s sure there were a lot of girls out there who’d kill to be in her place right now. 

Shooting a Dolce and Gabbana commercial was kind of a dream. It was something that she had only ever dreamed of doing as a kid and then as a rising model. But now that the opportunity had presented itself to her, she wanted absolutely no part of it. 

“He’s not that bad,” Cheryl tries, but the grimace on her face shows that not even she believes her own words. 

“Right, he’s a freaking nightmare, Cher!” 

Chuck Clayton was the point guard for the Los Angeles Clippers and he was one of those guys who acted like and pretty much swore he was God’s gift to women just because he was semi-good-looking and knew how to shoot a basketball. Betty had had the misfortune of meeting him once, two years ago and she was still trying to get the overpowering stench of his cologne out of her head.

“It’s Dolce and Gabbana, Betty. Do you think you can get over your annoyance of him for a couple of hours? If you don’t want to do it, I won’t make you, but I think you’d be missing out on something great here.”

Betty groans. She knows that Cheryl is right, as much as she wishes she wasn’t. She’d be an idiot to turn this down. She supposed she could get over the sketchy vibes Chuck gave her in order to film the commercial. 

“When are we filming?” She sighs and Cheryl grins, knowing she’s officially caved in.  

“This Saturday. You’ll need to be on site by ten so I’ll set up James for you.” Cheryl begins tapping away at her phone and Betty just rolls her eyes, taking another bite of her pancakes and regretting the idea already. 

“Can you ask James to get me a cinnamon and raisin bagel before he picks me up?” James is her personal driver. She doesn’t really use him that much these days, because Jughead’s usually driving her everywhere, or she just won’t leave home. James is a really good guy. He’s been with Betty since the beginning of her career, and although they don’t talk much at all, he’s always comfortable to be around during long drives. 

“Looks like you have enough sweets, don’t you think?” Cheryl raises an eyebrow at the gift basket that’s sitting on her counter. “Who sent you that? Who even knows where you live?” 

“Officer Matthews.” Cheryl gives her a confused look. “He was on duty each time my uh, stalker decided to grace us with gifts. He was one of the officers who came over here when Nathan attacked me. He’s nice.”

“Nice, huh?” Cheryl smirks at her. “Is he cute?”

“Oh, my God.” 

“It’s a serious question! He’s cute, isn’t he?” 

“Well, he’s not… ugly.” And he wasn’t. He was a tall blonde haired Adonis if truth be told, but Betty didn’t get that sort of vibe from him. He was kind when he talked to her and he never so much as hinted at trying to flirt with her. He was always more interested in if she was okay or if there was anything he could do to help her out. Although he was a cop, so that was kind of his job. It was nice though, and she appreciated any bit of consistent kindness these days. Everything with Jughead had been hot or cold.

“So he’s totally hot.” 

“Maybe,” Betty shrugs. “But it’s not like I’m going to go after him. He’s a cop! And he’s not my type.”

“What is your type?” she questions teasingly.

Betty just shrugs again. She could tell Cheryl _exactly_ who her type was, but she’s sure the redhead wouldn’t exactly be all for the idea. Her dating history’s been less than discreet, and there are some obvious patterns Betty had picked up on over the years. And god, her type lived with her 24 hours a day and she did not want to bring it up again.

“I can set him up with you,” she jokes, trying to get the subject off of herself. “I’m sure he’d be your type.” 

Cheryl just rolls her eyes before standing up from where they’d been sitting at the bar. 

“I’ll let them know that you’re in for the commercial.” She must notice the way Betty’s face contorts because she gives her a small smile. “It’s just one day of shooting. You can do this and then you’ll never have to see Chuck Clayton again.” 

Betty doubts that but she nods anyway and watches as Cheryl walks out of the apartment. She should be over the moon about the commercial, but she isn’t. She really does not want to work with Chuck. He has a reputation and Betty hates having to play nice with people she knows are no good. 

“Dolce and Gabbana, huh?” 

She jumps as Jughead walks out of his room and into their living room. He sits on the couch and grabs one of the pillows on it, placing it onto his lap. 

“You were listening?” 

“Just towards the end. Chuck Clayton, huh?” The look on his face is unreadable and Betty just nods. “I didn’t know that Officer Matthews was the one who sent you that gift basket.” 

“Well, you never asked. Did you assume I just decided to go out and buy myself a gift basket for the hell of it?” 

Jughead shoots her a glare. “You shouldn’t eat anything in it. You can’t trust anyone.” 

“Are you serious? He’s a cop, Jughead!” 

“A young cop that just so happened to be on every scene with you so far? That’s kind of suspicious, don’t you think?” 

Betty just looks at him, annoyed, before rolling her eyes and standing up from her chair. 

“Where are you going?” He yells at her retreating back. 

She ignores him as she goes into her room and closes the door behind herself, throwing her body onto her bed. She’s trying not to be annoyed. She knows that she doesn’t have any reason to be annoyed with Jughead at all. He’s just doing his job, but she’s annoyed by the fact that he’s telling her not to eat a gift basket that a police officer (of all people) gave her. That’s going a little too far. She wishes that he was doing it because he was jealous and he felt something for her, but she knows that’s not it. He’s made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t feel anything for her. 

There’s a knock at her door and she doesn’t even answer before Jughead walks inside quietly. 

“I upset you.” He doesn’t ask her, he’s stating it as a fact. “I’m sorry. I know we’ve talked about me being a little too much about this stuff. I don’t know why I got so worked up over a gift basket. You’re right, Officer Matthews has been more than helpful.” 

“It’s fine.” The whole conversation is stupid to her and she’d rather not have it. “I don’t want to do this commercial with Chuck Clayton.” 

“Then why are you?” He sits on the end of her bed away from her, but she still smiles at the sight of him on her bed. 

“Cheryl’s right. It’s a really good opportunity. I’ve been wanting to get into commercials and this is kind of the best way and a dream come true. I just wish it wasn’t with him.” Her dislike for Chuck might be a little too extreme, but she doesn’t care. She has a good judge of character. “Will you come with me?” 

Jughead gives her a funny look. “Do you even have to ask? Haven’t I gone to all your shoots so far?”

“Don’t you ever get bored? I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t want to go, you know.” 

“Trust me when I say that bored is the last thing I feel with you.” He smiles at her and squeezes her leg gently before standing up and leaving her room. She’s so happy with his words that she doesn’t think to ask him what all he feels around her. 

———

Saturday seems to come too quickly and she doesn’t feel any less annoyed than she had when she first found out about the shoot. She knows she should feel happy, she’s living the dream of countless models who fight tooth-and-nail to get even this chance.

She and Jughead are sat in the back of the black Lincoln Continental. Jughead’s been glaring at James the entire time and Betty has no idea why. 

“How have you been?” Betty asks James as she tears a piece of the bagel he’d gotten her. “It’s been a while.”

“I’ve been good, Miss Cooper.” James was always professional with her, refusing to call her Betty even though she’d told him several times that it was okay. “Is everything okay with you?”

She doesn’t think that James knows about her stalker. Betty doesn’t want him to. She sure hasn’t said anything so unless Cheryl’s said anything then he’d be clueless. Although he’d probably know about Nathan. She didn’t want to talk about that either.

“I’m good,” she tells him. “I’m getting better. Mr. Jones here has been teaching me some self defense.” She smiles at Jughead, finding it funny that she’s referred to him as ‘Mr. Jones’, however, he doesn’t smile back at her. He just stays stoic as he stares ahead at James. 

“That’s good,” James says but he sounds a bit sarcastic about it. Betty has no idea what the hell is going on so she just stays quiet. He’s never acted like this, in all the years of driving her around, he’s been warm and welcoming, and now his even, slight coldness is enough to make her shiver.

She tears off another piece of the bagel and offers it to Jughead. He just shakes his head, but he doesn’t look her way. She frowns and eats it herself. 

They finally arrive at the location and she’s never been more happy to get out of a car before. 

“Thank you, James,” she says as Jughead gets out of the car. 

“Anything for you, Miss Cooper.” 

“Betty,” Jughead says in the smuggest tone she’s ever heard before. She turns towards him and he’s holding the door open for her while extending his hand out to her for her to grasp onto. She gives him a funny look but she can’t help the way she swoons at the sweet gesture. He may have been joking, but she couldn’t help but think of how he’d treat any girl lucky enough to date him.

She grabs onto his hand and gets out of the car. Jughead slams the door behind them, but Betty just ignores him. He must be in a mood. 

“If you wanted breakfast you should have told me,” Jughead grumbles. “I would have gone out before we left and gotten you some.” _Is he really bitter about not getting me a bagel?_

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it!” Betty says with a smile. “James knows this place that has the best bagels around. He always goes for me.”

“Doesn’t he have a wife or something to get bagels for?” 

“No?” Betty says, giving him a weird look. “He’s single.” 

She doesn’t understand why he’s single. James is a very attractive guy and he’s only in his mid to late thirties. He’s really handsome too in a very serious sort of way. He’s muscled, a bit more than Jughead, and has a military haircut with dark green eyes. He’s definitely a looker if you’re into the whole serious clean-cut look. 

“Of course he is. So where are we going?” 

She ignores his attitude and leads him inside of the building. Although she’s in front of him, his hand stays pressed against her lower back as if he’s making sure she doesn’t get lost or something. Everyone is already on set by the time they get there. People are running around acting like they’re doomed to run out of time before the world blows up. She spots Chuck sitting in front of a mirror as his makeup is done. He’s naked except for a tiny towel covering his private areas. He spots Betty in the reflection of the mirror and sends her a smirk. It gives her a strange feeling of disgust and discomfort.

“Betty Cooper, it’s about time! Come sit with me.” She’s about to act like she never heard him, but another makeup artist sees her and drags her over to the empty chair next to him. “How have you been? I heard about what happened to you with, you know,” he looks at her and she expects to see pity on his face, but she doesn’t. Instead, he looks genuinely sorry. It’s a look she isn’t used to seeing on him and it confuses her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she tells him, meaning it. “Nothing happened. It was just scary to think of what could have happened.” 

“I heard your bodyguard was the one who stopped it. That’s good.” He nods like he’s accepting something. “And I heard what happened to the guy… are you okay about that?” It’s a question no one has asked her and it takes her off guard. 

“I don’t know,” she answers him honestly. “I didn’t want that to happen. I never wanted that to happen.” 

“I know you didn’t. Most people would preach about how he got what he deserved but not you.” Chuck smiles warmly at her. “You’re different from everyone else.” 

Betty tries to gather her thoughts together. The Chuck in front of her is so different from the Chuck she met two years ago. He’s different from the things she’s heard about him. He’s being kinder in this one conversation than he’s been in the past two years she’d worked with and heard about him. And she doesn’t know what to think. Has something happened in the past few years to make him change? She’s always believed that people could change if they really wanted to, she just didn’t think Chuck Clayton would be one of those people. He wasn’t incapable of change, Betty just didn’t think he’d want to.

“Thank you,” is all she says. She looks into the mirror in front of her. Her stylist is wetting her hair. Her makeup artist is pulling out an eyeshadow palette to use on her. She catches Jughead’s eye in the mirror and his reflection sinks into a frown, just like he has been all day. She gives him a forced smile, hoping he’ll smile back, but he just turns away. 

 

The commercial is just as sexy as she thought it would be. She’s currently standing in a pool of heated water in a tiny white bikini. She would feel a little embarrassed but she’s used to this by now and Chuck’s sporting what can only be called fashionable tighty-whities so she feels fine. 

“I want to get one more shot of you coming out of the water,” the director yells over to her. She gives him a thumbs up and waits for the okay to start. For what seems like the hundredth time, she goes underneath the water and emerges in a way that rivals Ariel’s in The Little Mermaid. 

“Cut!” The director yells out. “That was beautiful, Elizabeth! Absolutely stunning! I told my people that I would work with no one else but you.”

“She does have that certain poise in her that you can’t find anywhere else,” Chuck says from where he’s sitting on the makeshift pier. Betty just smiles at both of them and makes to get out of the water. 

“You know,” Chuck says as she nears the pier, holding a hand out for her, “I’m having a party tonight. A lot of people are going to be there. You’re invited. You can bring whoever you want with you.” He glances behind her at something before turning his attention back to her. “You don’t have to come, but I thought I’d invite you. I understand if you don’t, though especially after everything you’ve been through.” 

She knows the last place she needs to be is at a party, but it sounds inviting. She remembers back to the last time she decided to do something fun, though and how that had worked out for her. Tonight will be different. If she goes, she’s not going to drink and she’ll be in better control of herself. She just needs a change of scenery from her apartment.

“I’ll be there,” she tells him. 

They say their goodbyes and he gives her his address before leaving. She walks over to Jughead who has been standing in the corner of the room all day. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks him, concerned. She doesn’t know what’s bothering him, but it’s starting to bother her. “You’ve been in a mood all day. Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t do that,” she tells him and he looks at her in question. “Remember when you told me that you wanted to be here for me? I want to be here for you, too. You’re my friend, Jughead. You can talk to me.” 

He’s quiet as he just stares at her. Finally, he sighs out and slouches a little, losing the tense stance he’d been in all day. She smiles inwardly, having finally broken today’s cold exterior.

“It’s just one of those days,” he tells her vaguely. It doesn’t answer anything and it leaves her just as clueless, but she’ll take it. Everyone’s entitled to have their own off days. “I know I’ve been rude. To you. Everyone. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” she shrugs as she links their arms together in a comfortable fashion as they begin to walk outside. “I got invited to a party Chuck is throwing tonight.” 

“Did you?” 

“Mhm, you don’t have to go with me.” 

Jughead stops in his tracks, making Betty come to a halt as well. She looks up at him confused and he’s staring down at her in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?”

“Well… yeah,” she shrugs. “I know you’re probably sick of having to hang around me 24/7 and after my whole confession to you the other night--.”

“Betty,” Jughead cuts her off, “I’m not sick of you, and we don’t have to talk about this.” 

“We do. It happened and that’s that, but I’m not really trying to bring it back up. I’m trying to say that going to this party might be just the thing I need to get over the whole thing, you know? I can meet someone there. I’m sure tons of eligible guys will be at his party.” She doesn’t know why she’s saying this, okay yes, she does know why. 

Half of her is telling him this so that he knows she’s trying to move past her crush on him, she doesn’t want him to have to worry about her or hurting her feelings. The other half is pure pettiness and she’s telling him in the hopes that he miraculously gets jealous at the news, and fights for her. She wants that to happen, as silly as it sounds. 

Whatever he feels, he doesn’t show it. He just stays serious as he starts walking again, dragging her along with him as their arms are still linked. 

“I’m going with you,” he tells her. Her heart races at that. Could it be because he’s jealous of the idea of her trying to find someone else? “You never know who could be there,” the next part of the sentence sounds rushed and fake, like the kind recited from a script. “For all we know, your stalker could be someone just as famous as you.” 

Her entire mood deflates like a popped balloon. 

“Right,” she says. “Of course.” 

 

Chuck Clayton has a huge house just like everyone else Jughead has met so far. It’s located in Beverly Hills and he would laugh at the complete pretentiousness of it all, but he just bites his lip and decides not to make any snarky comments. His face must say it all though, as Betty and him get dropped off in front of the house, because the tiny blonde is looking at him uneasy. 

“He’s a decent guy,” she says as if Jughead even cares, as if that’s somehow going to make him want to be here. It doesn’t. _But I need to make sure she’s safe._

“Didn’t you say he was an asshole just this morning?”

He hasn’t known Betty that long, just about two months but he knows that she’s a girl who trusts people way too easily. If he had his way, he’d leave her in the apartment all day where he knew she’d be out of harm’s way. He has this undeniable need to protect her. He’s fully aware that it’s technically his job, but it feels like more that that these days. Less-than-innocent ideas shouldn’t be blooming in his stupidly unprofessional mind when he’s practically pressed against her every day, teaching her to fight. The way she’d lied down for him in a split second, and the sound she made the other day had still been replaying in his mind like the most sensual soundtrack to an otherwise bland day in the life of a 24-hour bodyguard. 

Betty’s not the first woman he’s had to step in and protect. He’s been a bodyguard for actresses, models, personalities, and he’d felt never felt this protective over any of them before. He blames it on the fact that her situation is a bit more serious and she doesn’t seem to realize just how serious it all is. Going out to concerts and parties while her life was quite literally on the line? It was reckless and stupid, something Jughead would never allow had she been his, but she isn’t his. She’s just the girl he’s paid to protect. It’s what he repeats to himself constantly, branding it into his brain. 

“He was nice during the shoot,” she defends but he sees the way her cheeks redden. She does that a lot around him. He wonders if it’s because she’s embarrassed or if it’s something more. 

“Just because he’s nice once doesn’t mean he’s a nice guy.” Betty doesn’t knock as they reach the front door and he wonders if that’s just common around here; people just letting themselves into other’s homes. Is that how things work with celebrities? He doesn’t know, he wouldn’t know. He doesn’t necessarily like it though.

Betty ignores his words as they enter. She does that sometimes, he’s noticed. When she knows he’s right she just won’t answer him. It annoys him to no end, but he’s not about to bring it up to her. He has no reason to be annoyed at the fact that she doesn’t answer him sometimes. He had never talked this much to any of the other people he worked for, but Betty had been insistent that they be _friends_. It was ridiculous. He had tried to be cold towards her, to show her that he has no interest in being her friend, but Betty Cooper seemed like the type of girl who always got her away. That’s what happened with him at least. 

Jughead had his days with Betty. Some days it seemed like they were truly friends and they’d laugh and joke about things and he’d forget he’s being paid to guard her life. Other days things seem tense between them and he knows that he’s being closed off with her. He’s not trying to, he doesn’t want to act like that around her, but he can’t help it. He’s aware what things look like in the public eye and the last thing he needs is her getting hurt over him because they were a little too close.

As soon as they get through the front door, Jughead wants to walk right back out. He could hear the music from outside, but now that they were inside of the house, it was so much louder and ringing in his ears. It was something that he’d never listen to if he had a choice and he grimaces at it. 

“Oh, I like this song!” Betty tells him, a grin on her face. “My friend’s the one singing!” 

_Of course he is,_ Jughead wants to say. He doesn’t though. He just nods and gives her a smile that he’s sure makes him look like he’s ready to die. 

“Hey, man!” Some guy yells from behind him. “So glad you could make it!” The guy brings Jughead in for a hug and Betty gives him a confused look, while he’s sure his face mirrors her own. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says back uneasily but the guy has already ran off to someone else. “I’ve never seen that man before in my life.” His voice speaks right into her ear, so she could hear him over the music.

Betty laughs and he has to admit, it’s kind of funny. 

“Welcome to Beverly Hills,” she says with a smile and Jughead smiles back at her. “We should find Chuck and say hi. It’s his party after all.” 

The idea doesn’t sound appealing to him at all. This house is big enough that he could probably _live_ here and never run into Chuck, so why do they have to go search him out willingly? This would be the one custom that these people decide to stick with. At least they’re polite, he thinks with a snort. 

“And I’m kind of thirsty,” she tells him. “Could you get me a drink?” 

He looks at her with a frown. Betty’s been better about drinking especially after what happened the last time and the talk they had. He doesn’t want this party to be something that sets her back. 

“A Coca-Cola, please, I’m not going to drink tonight,” she confirms for him but she looks a little bummed out now and he realizes that she probably noticed the way he was looking at her. He doesn’t want to treat her like she’s a kid and he’s not trying to. It’s something he needs to work on and he knows it. 

There’s a full bar inside of the house because _of course there is_. Betty walks over to it with him and stands by as he gets her a coke. 

“Give me the can,” he tells the bartender. He’ll be damned if he lets this man pour the drink into the glass himself. “I’ll pour it for her.” The bartender gives him an ugly look, clearly offended, but Jughead couldn’t care less. When it comes to her, he isn’t taking any chances. He pours the drink himself and hands it over to Betty who takes it with a gracious smile. It was the little things, like an appreciative smile, that made it all worth it.

“He might be out by the pool,” she says randomly and it takes Jughead a minute to realize she’s still talking about Chuck. 

“Okay.” He follows her outside, thoughts racing the entire time. He doesn’t trust Chuck at all. He’d only just met him today at the shoot and even then he hadn’t actually _met_ him at all. He’d only seen him from a distance, but something about him was off. The way he stared at Betty was nearly predatory. His eyes would linger on her like an animal stalking its prey and he had made more than enough comments about her “poise” and “grace” all damn day. It had been exhausting to listen to and Jughead had wanted to yell at him to shut the fuck up several times. Why couldn’t the guy just do his damn job and keep his trap shut without hitting on Betty? It was obnoxious and it annoyed Jughead that Betty seemed to be falling for it. 

Sure enough, Betty was right. As soon as they get outside they spot Chuck. He’s standing by the pool in white pants with no shirt on. He looks like a douchebag. It’s not even hot outside to be swimming so why the hell is he shirtless? Jughead gives Betty a sympathetic look she doesn’t catch, when she shudders from the chill in the air.

Jughead’s wearing a black long-sleeve shirt and black jeans with boots because it’s cold outside. Even Betty is wearing a pair of white jeans with a blue sweater on. He decides that Chuck is an idiot and it’s a wonder how no one else seems to see it. 

“Betty!” Chuck yells out as he sees her, walking over to them and leaving the girl he had been talking to before. The girl looks annoyed and Jughead wonders if he’s wearing the same expression she is. 

“Look at us,” he says as he nears them, “Matching pants! It was meant to be.” Betty laughs at his words as she looks down at their jeans. Jughead has to refrain from getting her Coke and throwing it on Chuck’s jeans. 

“I’m so glad you could make it.” He brings her in for a hug and his hand rests a little too closely to her ass. Jughead glares at him. Chuck smirks back, to his annoyance.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she tells him. “I brought a friend.” 

“Hey, man,” Chuck says offhandedly, not even looking at Jughead as he says it. Jughead doubts he would have even said anything if Betty hadn’t mentioned she’d brought him along. Jughead doesn’t say anything back, he just nods in acknowledgement.

“Come on, Betty,” Chuck says as he grabs Betty’s wrist rather tightly and leads her over to a group of people standing by a bar. “I have some friends I want you to meet.” 

Jughead follows behind them, suddenly feeling like a third wheel although he knows that he has no right to. He’s Betty’s bodyguard, this is how things are supposed to be; him in the back, following and watching, but never actually being a part of anything. He’s not supposed to want her to hold his hand, or drag him off places to do indecent things…..

Chuck introduces her to some guys that are on the same team with him. In any other world, in any other scenario, Jughead would probably be freaking out over standing in front of NBA players, but not now. Now he just feels annoyance as they all fawn over Betty, talking about how much they love her work and how she’s even more beautiful in person. _No shit,_ he thinks to himself. He’s told her that before, how beautiful she is, but he doesn’t say it the way these guys do. He says it and he means it. He means that she’s beautiful on the inside, even more so than she is on the outside. She’s different than anyone he’s ever met before, with a kind heart and eyes to match. She’s the type of girl who would do anything for the people she cares about and that’s what makes her beautiful. These guys though? _They tell her she’s beautiful as they stare her up and down. They don’t mean it,_ Jughead thinks bitterly.

A couple of the guys have girlfriends with them and they still smile a bit too much and for a bit too long at Betty. They don’t seem to see the way their boyfriends are looking at her. Jughead wonders if he’s the only who here who can actually see what’s going on.

They’ve been there for a while, Jughead’s just off to the side and Betty’s talking to one of the girls that had introduced herself as Marisol. He’s bored. He doesn’t get bored easily, but right now he is so bored that the pool looks really inviting to him. He’s clocked out on all the conversation around him and is taken by surprise when Marisol puts a hand on his arm. 

“What’s your name?” She asks him, seeming genuinely curious. “You didn’t introduce yourself.” 

“No,” he says blandly, “I didn’t.” Just as he’s about to turn away from her, Betty stumbles over to him. 

“This is Jughead!” She waves a bit on her feet and her words are slow. Jughead looks at her in confusion. _She’s drinking a Coke, what the hell? There’s no way she’s drunk._

“Jughead?” It’s Chuck who says his name, sounding like an asshole as he snorts. “That’s an interesting name.” He places his hand around Betty’s waist and brings her closer to him. She falls into his chest, but the action looks weird. She smiles and lets out a delirious laugh. _Something’s wrong._

“Betty, are you okay?” He moves forward, ignoring Chuck as his focus turns back towards Betty. 

“She’s fine, man,” Chuck says, pulling Betty back and stepping away from Jughead. “Aren’t you, Betty?” 

Her eyes close slowly and she opens her mouth twice, moving it but no sound comes out. “J--j--...” 

“What the fuck?” Jughead yells out. He looks around and sees Betty’s drink, half empty and left alone on the bar top. His entire body feels hot in anger as he realizes what’s going on. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

She sways in Chuck’s arms and now his friends turn their attention towards them as they hear Jughead’s words. 

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Chuck says, anger growing. “She’s fine!” 

Jughead ignores him as he reaches forward and grabs Betty’s arm. “Come on, we’re going home.” 

“Home?” Chuck says. “What are you? Her boyfriend?” He says it so sarcastically and the look on his face is so smug that the words come flying out of Jughead’s mouth before he can even stop himself. 

“Actually I am, asshole.” 

Chuck looks taken aback before he smirks again. “Funny. She didn’t seem to think to mention that to me. You must not be that important, giving the way she’s hanging on me right now.” 

Betty tries to talk again, but nothing comes out and her head drops to one side, her eyes half-lidded.

“What did you do to her?”

“It’s not what I did to her,” Chuck laughs. “It’s what I’m _going_ to do to her. She doesn’t look like she’s complaining, does she?” 

Jughead doesn’t think after that. He pulls Betty away from Chuck and hands her to Marisol who looks completely shocked. 

“What the fu--?” Chuck doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before Jughead lunges towards him, punching him right in the face. He staggers backwards, but doesn’t go down. “You’re going to fucking pay for that,” he spits out and lands a punch to Jughead’s cheekbone. 

Jughead tackles him to the ground and begins to punch him in the face repeatedly. They both roll around on the ground, gaining power over the other before losing it again. He can’t feel his face or his knuckles, he doesn’t know how long he’s been fighting with Chuck for. All he can focus on is making sure that Chuck pays for whatever he did to Betty. 

“Hey, Betty, stay awake! Come on! What happened?” Marisol screeches.

“Betty?” He yells out to her, taking his attention off of Chuck as he runs over to Betty. He’s scared to touch her and he watches in horror as her eyes roll back and her legs stop supporting her weight. She drops to the floor, as people stare and take pictures. 

“You _roofied_ her? Are you fucking kidding me?” As much as he’d love to pound Chuck’s face in, Jughead turns to Betty instead, and drops to his knees next to Betty on the ground. There are tears falling down his face as he starts crying. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s supposed to protect Betty, but he doesn’t know what to do. He feels for a pulse, but it’s faint. 

“Betty? Betty, you’re going to be okay. I swear to God, you’re going to be okay.” It falls on deaf ears though, she’s too far gone to understand a single word of anything he’s said. Color had drained from her face as air rushed in and out from her parted lips. He’s never felt so desperate to see her blink, at least.

“Betty?” He yells. “Hey, hey! No, wake up!” He touches her face, she’s sweating and her hair is damp. He places his hands on her chest. He wipes at his face again, ignoring Chuck’s snickers behind his back.

“Please stay with me, wake up,” he whispers out desperately. She won’t react but he’d do anything to hear a single word.

He knew roofies usually weren’t dangerous. Chances are, since it wasn’t mixed with alcohol, she’d likely recover just fine after being sick for a while. But part of him couldn’t bear to imagine the _what if_. 

_I’m so sorry, Betty…please, I just need you with me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :')  
> as always, feel free to talk to me on [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com). thank you for reading. i love you guys so much.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Jughead and Betty’s POV’s will change throughout the chapter. I really want you guys to see things through Juggie’s eyes as well, so I hope you’re okay with this! 
> 
> \- Betty isn’t going to crumble so easily for those of you who were worried about how this would all affect her. She’s strong as hell and she’s not going to let someone like Chuck Clayton bring her down. :’)
> 
> \- Thank you to itstenafterfour on Tumblr! She’s my freaking queen for being the most amazing beta and also for giving me amazing ideas to make this story just _that_ much better.  <3

He’s only ever been in a hospital room once before in his life. He had been eight years old and he’d broken his leg trying to jump off a tree in his backyard. He doesn’t remember what it felt like or if the pain was terrible or if he just cried because that’s what was expected. He does remember sitting down in a hospital bed as his mother sat by his side, holding his hand and telling him to be strong. Why did he have to be strong? It was just a broken leg. It would heal. It wouldn’t cause any irreversible damage. It wouldn’t even bother him in a few months time. 

He wishes someone would hold his hand and tell him to be strong now. 

He’s been by Betty’s bedside since they had arrived at the hospital. She’ll be fine, that’s what the doctors had told him. He didn’t believe them, though. How could she ever be okay after this? The amount of pain and tribulations she’d gone through in the short amount of months he had known her was unfathomable. He looked at her now, pale face and chapped lips, and wondered why she deserved any of this. People like Betty didn’t deserve to go through things like this. She deserved the entire world and more and yet here she was, in a hospital bed because the world around her was ugly. She didn’t deserve this and the world didn’t deserve her. 

He watches her chest fall up and down. He has to keep watch just in case. He _has_ to make sure that she’s okay. He can’t take any chances right now, not with her. 

“You should get something to eat,” a nurse says to him as she walks inside the private room to make sure everything is okay with her vitals. “She’s just sleeping, she’ll be fine.” 

Yeah, he thinks, that’s what she had said about the party before they had gone. She had said that it would be fine, she wouldn’t drink any alcohol. She just wanted to get out of the apartment and have fun. Jughead shuts his eyes tightly, willing the tears in them to go away. She’s fine, he knows that over all she’s okay, but he has no idea how she’ll react whenever she wakes up. 

The nurse leaves, giving up on trying to get Jughead to leave. He can’t leave and the fact that she’d even tried to convince him to would be laughable; if anything about this was even remotely funny. 

Cheryl had come by earlier. Apparently people at the party leaked photos of Betty on the ground passed out. She told him there were headlines reading how Betty had gotten blacked out drunk, how she’d been drugged, how she couldn’t handle herself. She had asked Jughead to try to keep her away from any kind of social media so she wouldn’t upset herself. Jughead had agreed. He wanted to kill whoever had thought it had been funny to take pictures of Betty. He couldn’t understand how people could be so cruel to someone who’s never done anything wrong to them before. 

He watches Betty breathe and his eyes grow heavier. He’s exhausted and he wants to sleep, but he can’t; not until she’s awake. He grabs her hand, which is freezing, and wraps it up in both of his as he squeezes onto it tightly, trying to warm her up in anyway that he can. 

He leans his head down and places it softly onto her stomach. He doesn’t put all his weight on her, scared to hurt her, but he just rests it enough to where he can feel her chest rise and fall. He closes his eyes and pretends that they’re anywhere else. 

He lays there for about twenty minutes before he feels a gentle pressure on his hand. He picks up his head and sees Betty slowly start to open her eyes. It takes a little while and she scowls at the bright light in the room. 

“Hey,” she croaks out, her voice scratchy. Jughead reaches over for the glass of water on the bedside table and hands it to her. There’s a straw in it and he guides it up to her lips for her. She takes a long sip before pulling her head away and Jughead places it back onto the table. “What happened?” Her voice still sounds uneven and now she’s looking up at the ceiling with sad eyes and Jughead knows that she knows what happened. 

“I’m sorry,” is all he says. It’s all he can say. He can’t tell her she was drugged, he can barely think the words much less say them to her face. He watches as her face crumbles. For a second he’s worried that she’s about to start crying, but then she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes again.

“There’s a first for everything,” she says, trying to joke, and Jughead glares at her. 

“Don’t joke about this, Betty. You scared the shit out of me. I’ve never---.” He cuts himself off. He’s never what? Never been so scared before? Never been so terrified to lose someone before? He doesn’t think it’s appropriate to say either one of those right now.

“I’m okay, right?” She asks him. It’s a weird question and he looks at her in confusion. “I’m… fine? Nothing happened?” 

He knows what she’s asking him. A small part of him wants to say that he’d never let anything bad happen to her, but that’s not the truth; not anymore at least. He’s supposed to be the best at his job and yet since he’s been protecting her, she’s been nearly sexually assaulted and drugged. Her life has been worse since he’s entered it and he knows exactly why. 

When Chuck had his arms around her, instead of feeling protective over her wellbeing, Jughead had felt a red hot burst of jealousy go through his body. He had never been a jealous person, mainly because he had never actually let himself get too close to anyone like that, but with Betty it was different. He saw the way men looked at her and he wanted to gouge their eyes out. They would touch her and he wanted to cut their hands off. 

When she had told him she felt something for him, he yearned to reach out and take her to his bedroom and show her just what he felt for her. He didn’t, though. He knew he couldn’t do that, not without putting her life and her feelings in danger. Being with him would just make everything worse for her. Jughead wasn’t good at relationships. He had never had one before and there was good reason for that. He didn’t know the first thing about being anyone’s boyfriend. He knew how to protect people. He didn’t know how to _love_ them. 

He was too close to her and he needed to pull away. 

“Nothing happened to you,” he tells her eventually. Betty gives him a small smile. 

“I know. You wouldn’t let anything happen to me.” 

The words cut through him like knives and a sharp pang hits him in his chest. He _did_ let something happen to her, though. He couldn’t protect her, not like she needed to be protected. She needed more than him, more than a man who couldn’t put his feelings aside to watch out for her. 

There’s a tiny knock at the door that tears him away from his thoughts and both he and Betty turnaround. It’s the girl from the party who had helped him, Marisol. She’s standing in the doorway looking really nervous as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. 

“Hi,” she finally says. “I just wanted to check on you. I don’t even know if you remember me, but--.” 

“I remember you,” Betty says. “Thank you.” 

The two girls stare at each other and Jughead stands up from his chair, letting go of Betty’s hand. 

“I think I’m going to get something to eat,” he tells her. “I’ll bring you something back. Do you want anything, Marisol?” The brunette shakes her head and Jughead just nods as he walks out of the room, his thoughts overflowing his mind as he heads towards the cafeteria. 

\----------------

“How are you feeling?” 

Betty doesn’t know how to answer the question. How is she feeling? Physically she feels fine. She’s a bit sluggish and it’s kind of hard for her to move still, but she feels okay and she knows she’ll be fine. Mentally is a different story. She repeats the same questions to herself over and over again. What did she do to deserve this? Why was this happening to her? She was starting to think that maybe she deserved all of this. There has to be a reason this is happening to her. She just wishes she could go back in time to when this wasn’t her life. She just wants to feel okay again. 

“I don’t know,” she says softly. Marisol nods. “Was it Chuck?” Betty asks. She feels so stupid to think that he had changed. She should have known better. She’s starting to think the world is right about her being a naive little girl. 

“I don’t know. He won’t confess. He swears it wasn’t him, but…” 

Betty just nods. He’s not going to confess even if it was him. Chances are he won’t get in trouble even if he did confess. He’s a famous NBA player with lawyers who would never let this scandal see the light of day. Chuck Clayton will continue living his life normally while Betty sits in this hospital bed, not knowing what to do with herself. 

“Your boyfriend was really scared,” Marisol speaks up. “He kind of beat the shit out of Chuck too, if it makes you feel any better.” 

“My what?” Betty asks, confused. 

“Your boyfriend, Jughead. He looked kind of scary honestly. Chuck was pissed that none of his friends tried to jump in for him, but no one wanted to mess with Jughead.” She shakes her head, a small smile on her lips. “You’ve got a good one, girl. He really cares about you.” 

Betty’s head is reeling. What the hell is she talking about? Why would she think that Jughead was her boyfriend?

“Jughead said he was my boyfriend?” She asks, needing the confirmation that she’s hearing this correctly. 

“Mhm,” Marisol nods. “I guess you wouldn’t remember because you were already kind of out of it at that point. Chuck was hanging all over you, though and Jughead wasn’t having it at all. He didn’t seem like the jealous type, but I guess it was just because he was so quiet.” She must see the confusion on Betty’s face, because she gives her a funny look. “Were you guys hiding your relationship or what?”

“Yeah,” Betty says, deciding to just go along with it. “We’re keeping it a secret so please---.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Marisol promises. “It’s not my business to tell. I don’t think he was going to say anything about it either, but Chuck made some kind of jab at him and he just snapped. I wouldn’t be too mad at him if I were you.” 

Betty just nods. She’s not mad. Mad is literally the last thing she feels. She is fucking confused, _that’s_ what she is. She has no idea what’s going on or why Jughead would say he was her boyfriend. Had it been just so that Chuck would leave her alone? It had to have been. She debates if she should bring this up to Jughead, but decides against it. It probably didn’t mean anything and there’s no need to bring it up, especially not now. 

“Thank you,” Betty tells her again. “For helping me and for not taking pictures or anything like that.” She’s assuming someone took pictures of her. She’s not dumb, she knows how she must have looked. She also knows that this is probably all over the tabloids by now, but she knows Jughead is going to try to do his best to shield her from that. “Most people wouldn’t have be so kind.” 

“It’s not about being kind,” Marisol says. “It’s about being human.” 

She says it as if it’s that simple, as if people should just always be kind just because it’s the right thing to do. Maybe she has a point, maybe in her world that’s how things are. In Betty’s world though, she doesn’t think things work so easily. She’s starting to think that people are just cruel and she’d be blind to it all along. 

\-------------

They let her go home that day. She’s fine, everything’s fine. That’s what they keep telling her. They keep saying that she’s lucky she had a friend to help her out. She doesn’t feel lucky, though. She feels the complete opposite. 

There are no cameras ready to blind her as soon as she leaves the hospital and she’s a bit shocked. She supposes that Cheryl must be behind that, but she doesn’t say anything. 

Veronica has been calling her, but she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t want to have to listen to her best friend cry on the other line about how “it’s not fair” and “Chuck needs to pay” and how Betty “will grow from this”. It’s not fair, Betty knows this better than anyone. Chuck should pay, but he won’t. She’ll grow from this, sure, but it’s never going to leave her. 

The apartment is quiet when they get there and Jughead walks her over to her bedroom. She doesn’t want him to hover over her, but she doesn’t want to be alone either. She’s conflicted. 

“Do you need anything?” He asks her as he stands awkwardly by her dresser. 

“I was drugged,” she reminds him a bit rudely, “I didn’t break my legs or something. If I need anything I can get it myself.” Jughead frowns and she knows that she’s hurt his feelings. She feels bad, but she doesn’t apologize. She doesn’t want this incident to change how he looks or acts around her. She understands just how bad things could have been, but they didn’t get that far so she doesn’t understand why he has to act like they did. 

Jughead turns to walk out of her room and she calls out for him. 

“Don’t blame yourself.” She knows that’s what he has to be doing right now. “This wasn’t your fault. It was neither of our’s fault.”

“But if I had just been paying more attention,” he starts off, voice broken, but Betty shakes her head. 

“It doesn’t matter. It probably still would have happened. I don’t blame you for it, so I don’t want you to blame yourself. You stopped anything else from happening and that’s what you should be focusing on. Because of you, I’m fine and I will be okay, so please.” Jughead nods, but he doesn’t look like he’ll be listening to her words anytime soon. 

“You should probably get some rest,” he tells her. 

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been resting all day. I’m tired of resting. What am I supposed to be resting from?”

“Betty, please,” he begs. “Don’t sleep if you don’t want to, but can you just stay in bed right now?” She debates fighting him on it, but just nods in the end. He looks really torn up over it and she doesn’t want to add any unnecessary stress to his life. She knows exactly how she feels over this, she knows that she’ll be okay and that she can’t let this one thing bring her down. Worse things have happened. Jughead though? She has no idea how he feels so she needs to tread easily.

“Stay with me?” She blurts out. “I mean, I just don’t want to be alone. We can watch a show and eat ice-cream or something…” she mumbles. She doesn’t know if she’s crossing some kind of line right now, inviting Jughead to come and lay with her in her bed. It seems a bit too much and she looks down, scared of what his reaction will be. 

It’s quiet for a bit and she toys with her blanket. 

“Chocolate or strawberry?” He finally asks. She looks up and he has a smile on his face. “If we’re watching a show though, it’s not going to be one of your teen drama ones. I’ve had enough of those.” 

Betty grins at him. “Chocolate. Game of Thrones?” 

Jughead nods before walking out of the room and Betty feels a little lighter. There’s a lot on her mind. Why had Jughead told Chuck he was her boyfriend? Who drugged her and why? What could they have possibly had to gain from it? How did she go about with her life now? Does she just act like it never happened? She doesn’t want to think about it. She doesn’t want that one incident to define the rest of her life for her. She’s in charge of what happens from here on out.

She’s always wanted to be someone who was strong, someone who didn’t have to rely on others to help her out when times got rough. Her life could be so much worse when she stops to thinks about it. She can take care of herself for now. She doesn’t need anyone babying her just because things get a little rough every now and then.

Jughead walks back into the room. He’s changed out of the clothes he had worn to the party and in the hospital. He’s wearing sweats that lay low on his hips and a white tank top. She’s never particularly liked when guys wore tank tops, but Jughead pulled it off perfectly just like he did for most things. He hands one bowl of ice-cream to her and makes to sit down on her bed. It’s a king sized bed, so there’s a lot of room for the both of them. She notices that Jughead seems to disregard that fact as he sits crisscrossed right next to her, their knees touching lightly. 

She smiles at the touch and looks over to Jughead who’s just staring down at his bowl of ice cream. 

“I was thinking we could start over at season one,” she tells him as she heads over to HBO On Demand. 

“You’re really trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He asks her, finally looking her way and she just smiles. 

_You have no idea, Jughead Jones._

 

She stirs sometime in the middle of the night and opens her eyes to glance at her clock to see what time it is. It’s only one in the morning and she stills feels really drowsy. She turns on her side and nearly screams when she sees that she’s not alone. 

It’s just Jughead though and she lets out a sigh as she sees that he’s fast asleep. His eyes are closed, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks and the streetlights outside peak in through her window, illuminating his face perfectly. He’s breathing evenly and she can’t help but notice just how handsome he is as he sleeps. She wonders if this makes her a bit creepy. Maybe, but she doesn’t focus on that too much. Instead she focuses on how his body is facing hers, as if maybe he’d been watching her before he fell asleep. His hand is reached out to her, fingertips nearly touching the top of her arm. Had he been holding onto her during the night? She doesn’t know. All she knows is that for someone who’s supposed to be moving on, she’s doing a really shitty job of it. 

She watches him for a little while longer. She knows she should probably look away. If he woke up and saw her staring at him like this, that would be kind of hard to explain. And then she had a scarier realization.

What if the stalker was watching her right now, just as she was watching Jughead? Suddenly her skin was crawling, and she pulled the covers over her head to shield herself from the open window not far from the bed. Her head was a couple inches away from Jughead’s stomach, and she could see his chest rise up and drop almost systematically.

Soon enough, the air under the covers began to feel stuffy, a thin layer of sweat covering her back. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her head up from under the covers, rested up on her forearm and shook him from sleep.

“Jughead?” She whispered. He didn’t even stir. 

“Jughead?” This time her voice came out as more of a whispery scream. 

“Jughead, I’m scared someone’s out there,” she said, biting her lip.

Without saying a word or even opening his eyes, he groggily slung his arm over her waist, and pulled her into his chest, turning onto his side. 

“Don’t worry,” he said, mumbling something in her ear that she couldn’t make out. Had he said Betty or baby? It sounded suspiciously of the latter.

Tucking her in against him, he whispered “I’ve got you,” before falling back to sleep.

For some reason, she felt safer in his arms than she had since any of this happened. Since the stalker, since Nathan, since the party. For once, sleep managed to make its way back to her, and her eyelids fell shut.

 

He’s awake now. He’d been fast asleep, but since Betty had whispered to him that she felt scared he just couldn’t go back to sleep. He keeps his eyes closed tightly though, as he feels Betty’s chest move up and down against his. It’d been a pretty risky move, bringing her close to him to cuddle, but the way she fell asleep quickly lets him know that she didn’t have a problem with it.

He runs a hand through her hair, loving how soft it feels in his hands. It’d be so easy right now to whisper out all of the thoughts flowing through his mind about her. No one can hear him, not even she can. He’s tempted to just say it all to her sleeping figure. 

He looks down at her, she’s tucked against his chest and he simultaneously hates and loves how perfect she fits against his body, as if she was made just for him. 

A loud wailing noise comes from outside and he sees a flash of red and blue lights. He doesn’t even think twice about the sirens; it’s Los Angeles after all. There are _always_ sirens around. What does catch his attention, is the way the blue and red lights seem to stop right outside of Betty’s bedroom window. He knows he’s probably being a bit paranoid, especially since she had just expressed that she felt like someone was outside. The siren shuts off rather abruptly and Jughead untangles Betty from him gently. She groans at the loss, but overall just turns onto her side and continues sleeping. 

Jughead walks over to the sliding door in her room that connects to a balcony. The cop car is parked directly in front of her bedroom. He looks down, since Betty’s apartment is on the third floor, and sees a silhouette in the driver’s seat. The windows are way too tinted for him to even try to see who the person driving the car is, but he opens up Betty’s balcony door anyways as he steps outside. 

He can’t really see, but he _knows_ that the person inside of the car is looking right back at him. He steps forward again, but before he can fully get onto the balcony, the car takes off down the street. It’s weird. It’s weird as hell and he has a bad feeling about it all. Why would someone just stop right here, looking up to Betty’s bedroom, and then speed off? Something’s not right. 

He walks back inside of the bedroom, relieved to see that Betty is still fast asleep and he makes his way into the living room as he grabs his phone and dials the police department. A dispatcher answers his call and he’s quick to get to his point. 

“Hi, I just saw a LAPD car outside of my apartment. They just parked and then sped off really fast before I could see what they needed. Could you tell me if maybe that was just some kind of detour or mix up or something?” It’s stupid to be calling, especially over something like this, but he just needs to be sure. 

“Sure,” the lady answers back. “Could you tell me your address?” He rattles off their address to the lady and she types away at her computer for a few seconds before clicking her tongue. “I’m sorry, sir. Are you sure it was a LAPD cruiser?” 

“I’m positive.” 

“We haven’t have any officers in that area in the last thirty minutes.”

He pauses. He _knows_ it was a LAPD police cruiser, the street light had reflected it perfectly. He knows what he saw. He realizes that he hasn’t answered the lady back and he decides that there’s really nothing more that she can help him with. 

“It must have been a mistake,” he says absentmindedly, “thank you.” He hangs up the phone before running his hands over his face in frustration. “Fuck!” 

“Jughead?” 

He whirls around and sees Betty standing at against the bar in the kitchen. She’s just woken up and she looks a little disoriented. _Fuck,_ he thinks to himself, _how much of that did she hear?_

“Who was that on the phone?” She asks him. 

_Obviously she heard enough._

“It was no one,” he tries to tell her confidently, “go back to bed.”

“You’re lying,” she says. “Who were you talking to?” 

He grinds his teeth together in frustration. He knew she wasn’t going to let this go and now he’s going to have to lie to her, because he’s not about to worry her with this. For all he knows this could be nothing. There’s no need to worry her over nothing. 

“It was nothing, Betty.” 

She glares at him. “It didn’t sound like nothing! Why can’t you just tell me who you were talking to? You seem really upset.” 

“I’m upset because you keep asking me questions that aren’t any of your business.” It’s mean and he doesn’t mean it, but he knows Betty. He knows that there’s no way she’s going to let go of any of this. He can tell by the way her face falls that he’s done what he planned. He feels like shit over it. 

“It’s just not a big deal,” he tells her, trying to get the sad look off of her face. “Just some dumb work stuff. It’s fine, okay? Everything’s fine.” 

She doesn’t believe him. He knows she doesn’t believe him, but she doesn’t say anything else. She just nods. 

“Go back to bed, Betts,” he tells her gently. 

She bites at her lip and hovers for a minute. 

“Will you come with me?” She asks and his heart clenches. He should tell her no. Fuck, he needs to tell her no. It’d be stupid and reckless to say yes to her. He’s already crossed way too many lines tonight. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

Well, shit. How is he supposed to say no to that?

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he promises as he nods for her to go along. “Just give me a minute.”

She nods and walks off. Once he’s sure that she’s back in her room, he walks over to the kitchen window and looks outside. There aren’t any cars in sight and he feels even more unnerved than he had before. 

He makes his way back to Betty’s room and stares at the bed. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but God does he want to. He’s never wanted anything more than to just curl up next to her and hold her. 

So he does.

\-----------------------

He wakes up the next day before Betty does. It’s a knock on the apartment door that wakes him up and he’s surprised that Betty seems to stay sleeping. He gets up quickly and answers the door, not wanting them to knock again and wake her up. 

“Are you Forsythe Jones?” A young man asks him. Jughead nods and the man hands him a box. “This was left outside for you, which is kind of weird. You should probably let people know that this is an apartment complex. They can send stuff to your mailbox instead of leaving it outside where anyone can get it.” 

“Do you know who it’s from?” He asks the boy. It’s only addressed to him and he doesn’t see another name on it telling him who sent it. 

“No, dude,” the guy snorts before walking off. Jughead just closes the door behind him, not caring for his attitude.

He takes the box over to the kitchen and places it on top of the counter. He has a bad feeling about it, but that’s not shocking. They never get anything good in the mail. 

He rips open the package, reaching inside and taking a deep breath as he readies himself for whatever is inside of it. 

He pulls out a polaroid picture and his blood goes cold. 

He’s staring at a picture of him and Betty from last night. It’s of them when they had first fallen asleep, before Betty had woken him up because she felt like someone was watching them. He knows exactly where this picture was taken. It was taken right from their balcony. Betty’s face is unmarked as she faces towards the camera, still sleeping. Jughead’s off to the side, you can barely see his face, but that didn’t stop whoever took this from splattering blood across him on the polaroid. It paints a clear picture of what they’re trying to say to him.

He stares at the picture in horror. He flips it over and chilling words stare back at him. 

_Hold her as much as you can. A dead man can’t hold anyone when he’s six feet under._

It’s a threat. This psycho, whoever he is, is finally looking at Jughead.

“Jug?” Betty croaks out, walking into the kitchen as she rubs her sleep filled eyes. “It’s really early.” 

He doesn't say anything. He can’t take his eyes off of the picture and the words it holds on the back. 

“Juggie?” She walks over to him and when she sees what he’s holding she stops in her tracks. “What’s that?” 

“Nothing,” he whispers out, pulling the picture away from her view. 

“Show me.” Her voice hardens and he knows that there’s no way she’s going to let this one go. 

“Betty, please,” he begs her, “just let this one go.” 

“Give it to me, Jughead. I deserve to know what it is.” He knows that she’s right and he curses himself before he slowly reaches towards her and places the picture in her hand. She flips it over just as he had. He watches as she goes from confused, to horrified, to absolutely blank. 

“He was on our balcony. He’s threatening you now,” she whispers out. She looks up at him with tears in her eyes. “You were going to keep this from me?” 

“I’m trying to protect you, Betty,” he pleads. 

“From what? From him? From you? Who were you on the phone with last night, Jughead? I’m not going to let you lie to my face anymore.”

He debated lying but he knows that he can’t do that to her. He sighs as he answers her. 

“I called the police department. I saw a cop cruiser parked on the street in front of your bedroom. It didn’t feel right and when I called, the dispatcher told me that there hadn’t been any cruisers in our area in the past thirty minutes.” 

Betty looks at him with wide eyes. “And you were just going to keep that from me?” 

“I’m trying to protect you!” He tells her again. 

“That’s not protecting me! That’s keeping things from me. You are doing the exact opposite of what I need you to do!” 

“You don’t get it! If I could shield you from the entire world, I would. I’d do anything to make sure that you never had to worry about anything. I need you to be safe.” 

“Why do you _need_ me to be safe? Why do you make everything so personal? And what about you, huh? He’s looking at you now! That was a threat, Jughead!” She’s in his face right now, their chests are practically touching and Jughead curls his hands into fists, willing himself to stay calm. “You think you can just cuddle me at night and that suddenly makes everything okay? Suddenly I’m safe from the world? Is that what you’d do with anyone else to make them feel safe?” 

“Just stop, Betty, let it go.” He needs her to stop talking right now before he does or says something he regrets. 

“No! Just tell me why everything has to be so damn personal with you!” 

“Because it’s _you_!” He yells out. “If anything happened to you, I’d literally go crazy. Nothing can happen to you, Betty.” 

“Why?” She whispers out. She asks it like she already knows the answer. “Because you’re my bodyguard? Because it’s your job? Because I’m the girl you’re being paid to protect?” It’s what she always refers to herself as and it makes his blood boil.

It’s not too late to backtrack, he thinks to himself. He can let this all go. He can act like that’s not how he meant it. 

“No,” he says roughly. “You’re not ‘just the girl I’m being paid to protect’. How oblivious can you be, Betty?” He runs his hands across his face before tearing them away and placing them onto her cheeks, making sure she’s looking at him. “I’ve felt something for you since the day I first met you. Do you know how that makes me feel? To be completely head over heels for you, but knowing I can’t do anything about it? Me liking you makes your life that much harder. I could be the reason you get killed, Betty. And I can’t let that happen.” He lets go of her face and takes a step back.

“Wait,” Betty yelps, reaching out to grab his hand. He moves away from her, backing up. 

“I won’t be the reason you get hurt.” 

“You can’t just spring something like that on me and just _leave_!” 

“I can’t stay,” he says brokenly. “If I truly care for you then the best thing I can do is leave you alone. You’re right, I make things too personal.”

“Jughead,” she pleads, eyes watering. 

But he doesn’t hear whatever she has to say next. He’s out of the door before she even opens her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before ya’ll come at me because this is too soon for a slow burn, do you know how hard it was to drag it out this long?! SO HARD. Anyways, life doesn’t get any sweeter for these two so like :’) it’s a slow burn for a happy ending, heheheh. 
> 
> You've met the stalker already. Who do ya'll think it is?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh not a fan of this chapter. I wanted it to be a bit longer, but life got in the way and I did promise an update today so just take this! *screams into the void*

She stands completely still and shellshocked for approximately five minutes after Jughead leaves the apartment, slamming the door both in her face and on his feelings. The words float around in her head, practically screaming at her. He’s admitted that he feels something for her and while it does change things, it changes them for the _worst._ That’s not the kind of change she wanted.

There’s a million different ways she could have imagined that conversation going and yet the way it actually happened was something she never anticipated. She had fully accepted that Jughead didn’t feel anything for her and while it hurt, she was just now beginning to be okay with it. Well, that’s what she told herself at least. But now? Now everything has changed. Again.

If Betty was even the slightest bit smart, she would act like the conversation never happened. She would brush the entire confrontation under the rug and just continue on with their relationship like it had been. But she wasn’t smart. She wasn’t smart at all. She didn’t even want to be. She also wouldn’t be satisfied going back to how things were. Sure, she’d been content before but that was before Jughead decided to blurt his real feelings out dramatically. 

Finally she moves, pacing around the apartment as she considers what to do next. The “gift” Jughead had received earlier is now burned into her mind. It had been one thing when it was just her getting the threatening messages, but now that Jughead was a target she didn’t know what to do. The last thing she had ever wanted was for anyone else to get involved with her mess. If something happened to her then fine, she could live with that. But if something happened to Jughead? She’d never forgive herself. It would break her.

She knows that Jughead is way too stubborn to ever consider possibly leaving his duty as her bodyguard and she was too attached to ask him to. It was an impossible situation. She didn’t know what to do about any of it, but she did know one thing for sure; standing around in her apartment running a thousand ‘what if’ scenarios through her mind wouldn’t solve a single thing. She needs to go out and find Jughead.

She slips on a pair of slippers from the hall closet. She’s still wearing the clothes she fell asleep in, a loose pair of pajama pants and an old, torn up UCLA shirt but she doesn’t care.

She opens up the apartment door and is about to take off running when a heavy lump falls back onto her. She lets out a tiny gasp as she wobbles on her feet, trying to keep her balance. 

_“Jughead?”_ She asks in bewilderment as the dark haired man looks up at her in embarrassment. “What the hell are you doing? Did you… have you just been there this whole time?” It’s only been about fifteen minutes, but she’d been sure that he had actually _left_.

“I couldn’t leave you,” he mumbles as he stands up and faces her. “I just needed to think for a few minutes.” 

Betty just nods, still a bit weirded out. “Well, do you need some more time or something? I can leave you to it.” She doesn’t know if she’s joking around or not. She might be serious, but Jughead seems to take it as a joke as he simple snorts and shakes his head. 

“I’m fine now.”

“Alright,” she says slowly as she nods. She stands in the doorway after that for a moment, not really knowing where they’re supposed to go from here. “Are you going to come back insider or…?” 

“Oh, yeah,” he says distractedly as if he hadn’t thought he’d be allowed back in. Betty moves off to the side and gives him room to walk on by her. 

Once they’re finally back in the apartment she grows embarrassed. She doesn’t know why she’s so embarrassed or why her cheeks are burning with the intensity of the sun, since she wasn’t the one who blurted her feelings out before leaving. She’d already been there and done that, but when she did it she was rejected. She won’t reject Jughead, she _can’t_ reject him. She can’t give him the same kind of out that he had tried to give her. It’s incredibly selfish of her, but just she can’t.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she says instead, echoing the same words he had told her before. “I won’t make you talk about it.” It hurts to say, but it’s the truth. If he’s uncomfortable, if he wants to act like the words never left his lips then she’ll let him. She’s a lot of things, but she’s not evil. She won’t put him in a position he doesn’t want to be in.

It’ll hurt, but Betty is sure she can do it. She can’t forget what he said and she won’t be happy about it, but she’ll be mature. It’s the least she can do. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid. It wasn’t professional.”

She wants to laugh at his words. Nothing about them has been professional lately. She doesn’t laugh, though. She knows that’s not going to help the situation at all. 

“I can forget what you said,” she lies. 

“Can you?” He bores his eyes into hers, staring at her so intensely that she’s scared to even blink. 

“Yes,” she whispers out, hoping she sounds believable. 

“And if I don’t want you to?” 

“Why wouldn’t you?” 

Jughead paces around, curling his hair around his fingers in frustration. 

“I don’t know what I want you to do,” he finally admits as he looks at her again. “I know what I _should_ want you to do, but I don’t think it’s what I really want you to do.” 

“It’s different now, Juggie,” she says sadly. “If we were to even think about acting on any of this, who knows what could happen? My stalker has his eye on you now. You’re not safe. Neither of us is safe, but together? Together we’re a walking target. We might as well paint a red X on our backs for him.” 

Jughead glares at her, not finding her statement funny. Good. Nothing about this is funny. She isn’t trying to be funny, she’s being realistic. For once in her life she’s trying to be realistic about things. 

“He isn’t going to lay a hand on you, Betty. You know I’m not going to let that happen.”

“But what about you?” She isn’t really concerned about herself right now. 

He pauses for a moment, biting his lip so hard that she thinks it might bleed. “What about me? Do you really think I’m worried about some coward behind a camera?”

“You should be.” She thinks back to Nathan and how this guy had somehow managed to kill him even though he was behind bars. If she hadn’t been worried about who he was or what he could do before then, she was definitely worried now. If he had been able to do that then what was he fully capable of? It was a question she’d been thinking about for a while now, but now it’s the only thing she can think of; all the possible outcomes bouncing around in her head, haunting her.

“But I’m not.” He walks closer to her and reaches out for her hand, holding it gently but comfortingly. Betty looks up at him and his eyes are somehow both hard, closed-off and promising. “You’re the only thing that matters to me right now, Betty and I won’t let anything happen to you. You know that, don’t you?”

She nods, squeezing his hand. She does know that. She doesn’t tell him that his judgement is a little flawed or that he’s not exactly thinking straight; he won’t listen to her anyway. 

“And I think you’re right, though.” She looks at him in confusion and he stares back at her brokenly. “It’s probably better if we just forget what I told you.” 

She doesn’t know what he’s referring to until she remembers how she said she could forget about his feelings for her. Her heart clenches tightly in her chest and she has to refrain from letting her face crumble completely. She knew it’s what would need to ultimately happen, but she wishes it didn’t have to. She wishes that she had met Jughead under different circumstances, maybe at a coffee shop or on a run. Maybe in another life she meets him at a bookstore or in line at Whole Foods. Maybe in another life they meet in the cinema, fighting over the last bag of Twizzlers. But in this life, the very thought of them being together could be the downfall and demise of one (or worse), both of them. It could cost their lives.

So she pushes back and tears and stands up taller and straighter. She can do this. She can be mature about this and she can give Jughead what he needs. 

“I understand,” she says and it comes out a lot steadier than she thought it would. 

“I wish things could be different, Betty.” He looks like he truly means it and that makes the whole thing even worse. It had been one thing when she thought he didn’t reciprocate her feelings, because at least then she _had_ to move on. But now that she knew how he really felt and why he was staying away from her, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to act like everything was fine between them. She didn’t know how she was supposed to move on from any of this. 

Jughead looks like he wants to say more, but she doesn’t know if she can spend even one more minute talking to him. It’s just making things hurt even more. She pulls her hand out of his and gives him a comforting smile that she hopes looks genuine. 

“I think I’m going to go back to bed, it’s kind of early and I’m really tired.” 

He looks like he doesn’t believe a single word she’s saying but he nods anyway. She backs away from him and almost mechanically, as if his body is wired to hers, he steps forward as he follows her. He pauses, realizing what he’s done, and shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he whispers out. 

She doesn’t say anything. She just nods and walks back to her room. A cold chill runs down her body as she thinks about how someone had stood on her bedroom balcony and watched her sleep. With shaking hands, she makes sure the door is locked and closes the curtains. She almost never closes her curtains, because she likes to see how alive the city is outside but now she can’t even enjoy that. 

She lays back in her bed once she feels a little more secure and brings the covers up and over her head. It’s a bit stuffy underneath them, but she doesn’t care. When she’s under them she can imagine she’s somewhere else, anywhere else, and it almost feels nice. Maybe she’s in one of the alternate universes she’d been thinking of earlier. She doesn’t have to look over the covers and see the dress hanging from her closet, reminding her of the upcoming event she needs to attend. She doesn’t see the jewelry box on her dresser that holds items each worth more than everything she’d owned as a teenager combined. She doesn’t see the chaos outside that reminds her that she’s not in her small hometown she’d hated so much growing up. For the first time since moving, she almost wishes she could go back.

Right now she’s just Elizabeth Cooper and that’s okay. 

 

She stays in bed all day and Jughead doesn’t bother her once. She doesn’t know if that makes her feel better or worse. Okay, she does. It makes her feel unbelievably sad, but at least he’s doing it for the greater good. He’s sticking true to his words and she can at least respect and understand that. 

It’s 10:00 PM when she picks her phone up from her bedside table and dials her mother’s number. She hasn’t talked to her mom and in a while and she misses her. Despite their rocky relationship, her mom has always been there for her and right now she just really needs to hear her voice.

_“Betty?”_ Her mom’s voice sounds familiar, just like home and she smiles. _“Is everything okay? It’s late.”_

She winces. She always forgets about their time differences. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I can call back later if you want. I forgot how late it is over there.” 

_“That’s fine,”_ her mom says, a little more awake now. _“You don’t need to do that. How are things?”_

Her mom knows enough about what’s going on. Betty’s told her about the “unwanted attention” she’d been receiving, although she hadn’t mentioned just how bad it had gotten. She also hadn’t told her mom about her recent trip to the hospital or even about Nathan. She wonders if her mom has any clue. Probably not. She’d told Betty before she became famous that she’d never pay read any magazine tabloids, because she knew nothing good came from them. 

She contemplates telling her everything, but decides against it. That’ll just make her mom worry and she’s not trying to steer the conversation that way. She doesn’t want her mom to worry. She just needs the sweet advice her mom used to tell her as a child, when she was heartbroken over guys whose names she couldn’t even remember now. 

“They’re okay. Mom, I think I met a guy I really like.” 

It’s so childish to say and a part of her feels a bit childish for even calling her mom with this kind of problem. She feels 10 years old again, lamenting a crush she had on a classmate. Isn’t this something that she should be able to figure out on her own? Shouldn’t she just call up Veronica and talk to her about it? She’s worried for a second that her mom will call her out on the stupidity of it all. 

She doesn’t, and Betty is nothing but relieved. 

_“Is he a nice boy?”_ She asks it softly and sincerely and her fears fall away. 

“He really is. I’ve never known anyone like him before.”

_“Does he make you happy?”_

“Yeah,” she whispers. “He does. A lot.” 

_“Then what’s the problem?”_

“If we’re together it could be really dangerous.” She doesn’t want to elaborate and she doesn’t think her mom will push her for more information. “It could end up really bad.” 

_“But what if it doesn’t? What if it ends up perfectly?”_

“Did you and dad ever have problems? Problems where one of you could end up really hurt?” 

_“I think everyone does, sweetheart. Our problems might not have been as serious as yours, but we had them. Every couple does. You just have to trust whether or not it’s worth it and whether or not you can come out on top together.”_

“I miss you,” Betty changes the subject. “I’m sorry I don’t call more often.” 

_“Don’t apologize. You’re making a name for yourself, I imagine it’s a busy life.”_ Even now she can hear her mom smiling through the line. She can see her face perfectly and it makes her miss home even more. _“I miss you too, though. Come visit soon.”_

“I will.” And she means it. She’s been away from home for too long and maybe what she really needs is it get out of California for a while. 

_“Bring that boy of yours,”_ her mom teases, surprising Betty. _“If anyone’s going to know if he’s worthy of you, it’s me.”_

“Maybe I will,” Betty says with a smile after a beat. “I love you, mom.” 

_“I love you too, Betty, more than anything.”_

They end the call shortly after that. It was short and sweet, just like things usually were between them but she feels a hundred times lighter now. 

She gets out of bed and walks over to the kitchen, suddenly hungry. Jughead isn’t in sight when she walks in and the door to his bedroom is closed, letting her know that he’s probably asleep. She doesn’t know if she’d been hoping that he might still be awake, but it doesn’t matter now. 

She walks over to the fridge and pulls out two Toaster Strudels before making her way to the toaster. She’s never been one to keep a tight diet and she’s not about to start now. Cheryl would definitely scold her for the last night sweets, but with how hard things have been, she deserves some sweetness in her life right now. 

She takes a seat at the bar and draws little smiley faces into her strudels with the frosting. 

“Sweets so late at night?” 

She jumps up and swirls around in the chair. She holds the packet in front of her like it’s going to protect her and she rolls her eyes when she sees Jughead standing in front of her. 

She’s annoying at him for scaring her, but she’s also annoyed because he looks really freaking hot right now. He’s wearing a pair of black sweats and nothing else. The sweats are hanging low on his hips and she can see his V-cut perfectly. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, which makes his muscles pop even more than they usually do. 

“I wish you’d at least give me a heads up that you’re around, instead of scaring me like that.” 

“You scare too easily.” 

She just looks at him before taking a bite of her strudel. His eyes watch her, going from the strudel to her lips and she makes a show of licking the frosting that stains her lips. She knows she’s not exactly doing what she promised him she would, but her phone call with her mom had given her a new perspective.

“Taste good?” Jughead asks, tilting his head. A strand of his hair falls into his eyes and it just adds to the lazy look he wears so good. It drives her crazy.

She just nods, not trusting herself enough to answer him. He puts his arms by his side and walks over to her slowly. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he says as he finally stands right in front of her, their bodies almost touching, “and I take it back.” 

“Take what back?” She asks as her heart begins to pound against her chest.

“Everything.” 

Before she can even think about what he’s saying, he places both his hands on her hips, gripping them tightly as he picks her up and places her onto the bar. She gasps out, wrapping her legs around his waist without even thinking about it. 

Jughead places their foreheads together as he squeezes her hips tightly. 

“Do you want this?” He breathes out. 

She has to stop herself from screaming out ‘yes’. Instead she just nods. 

“Tell me you want this, Betty.”’

“I want this,” she promises. 

“If we do this, you’re mine.” It’s primal, something she should hate but she doesn’t. “I swear to God, Betty. This changes everything so I have to know.” 

_It already has,_ she wants to say. The fact that she’s even here now, staring at him from the height of the counter has already changed everything.

Instead she pulls back and looks at him, eyes fierce and promising. 

“I’m yours,” she whispers, sure of it. 

His lips come crashing down on hers and for once, she feels like she’s floating instead of falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> up next: things get steamy? or do they? ;) 
> 
> P.S. I'll try to update tomorrow or Friday since this chapter was so short.   
> love y'all, come talk to me on [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com).


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter (along with the previous one) is a bit short, because I had originally planned to have them as two big chapters, but obviously it didn't work out that way sooooo... :) *shrugs shoulders*
> 
> Anywhoooo here's the smutty goodness you guys have been dying for! 40k words later and HERE WE ARE. I really hope you guys like it because this is my first time ever doing any kind of sexy scene in my writing life and it's probably really bad but.... I can only grow with practice! I really tried to incorporate their feelings for each other as well during the whole thing, because I feel like Bughead is really centric on their love for each other and I wanted to stay true to that. 
> 
> As always, thank you to my lovely queen @itstenafterfour over on Tumblr for being the best beta I could have ever hoped for. This story wouldn't be where it is without her. <3
> 
> Also guys, @chasingstoriestotellwhenimold made this AMAZING trailer over on [tumblr](https://chasingstoriestotellwhenimold.tumblr.com/post/163000786039/finished-binge-reading-this-amazing-fanfic-wicked) for Wicked Games so please check it out and show her some love! I'm kind of obsessed with it. 
> 
> For this chapter, there's a lot of sweetness, smut, and fluff. You guys deserve it. Enjoy. <3

Kissing Jughead is like nothing she’s ever experienced before. He kisses her like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do. Like it’s the only thing he’s ever meant to do. One of his hands snakes around her waist, bringing them chest to chest while the other hand makes its way up to her hair and pulls on it gently. She lets out a tiny gasp at the sensation that erupts in her scalp at the motion. It’s hardly painful, in fact it feels kind of good. This surprises her, as she’s never been one to venture out during sex, she’s always been very vanilla but Jughead’s hold on her makes her entire body go limp. She’d sit here for the rest of her life and let him use her as he pleased. She could quite literally die like this and have no regrets.

She doesn’t think that’s on the agenda though. With him pulling her head back, her neck is completely exposed to him and she soon finds out that was his goal. He presses his lips against her neck softly at first and kisses feather light lips against her skin. It’s not enough and at the same time almost too much, she wants to ask him for more. As if he can read her mind, or her body, he sinks his teeth into her neck roughly. It stings, but in the best way possible. 

“Don’t leave any marks,” she gasps out, arching her body into his hold. She wants him to, she doesn’t even care if it makes her sound like a teenager. She _wishes_ he could mark her up, but with her job she knows that it isn’t possible at all. She would never hear the end of it. 

“Excuse me?” He pulls his lips away from her neck and she nearly whines at the loss of touch. “What was that?”

“My neck,” she tries to say, slowly losing her train of thought with the way his eyes are boring into hers. “Photoshoots.” 

“What did I just tell you, Betty?” His voice sounds both authoritative and like he’s talking to a child, reprimanding them for doing something wrong. 

“I don’t…” 

“What did I tell you before we started this? Hmm?” He pulls the hand that was in her hair away and caresses her face with it lovingly. She leans her cheek into the touch, loving how warm his palm feels against her skin. “What did I tell you?” He repeats. 

“I’m yours,” she whispers out to him again. 

“That’s right. So if I did want to mark you up, I could, right? Because you’re mine?” 

She knows Jughead would never actually do something she wasn’t comfortable with and that’s why she’s so quick to tell him ‘yes’. She says yes, because it’s all about the power balance. Jughead obviously likes to be in control while fucking and Betty’s not about to turn him or _this_ down. 

“Yes,” she tells him, “you could do anything.” 

“Anything?” He smirks down at her. “You sure about that?” He gives her a challenging look, like he’s daring her to back down from her own words. She means them though. She trusts Jughead like she’s never trusted anyone else. The playful, dominating side to him that he’s showing right now is something she’s never seen from him before and she’s a bit drunk off of it. 

“I’m sure.” 

He just grins down at her before he picks her up off of the counter. She yelps at the sudden movement and is quick to wrap her arms and legs around his body tightly. His hands grip her ass and she has to bite her lip to stop the smile that threatens to show. 

She’s not exactly sure where he’s taking her, but she’s soon thrown onto a soft surface and she realizes they’re in his room. This time she does smile at the familiar feeling and smell that his sheets offer her. She’s only been in his bed one time before and she’s glad that he decided to take them here instead of her room. 

“Climb back,” he instructs her and she does exactly as he asked. His calculating eyes follow her the entire time and maybe she’d be embarrassed with anyone else, but not here. Not with Jughead.

She leans her back against one of the thicker pillows behind her and sinks into it gently. Jughead climbs onto the bed and makes his way in between her legs, placing himself there like it’s where he belongs and Betty thinks that maybe he does. 

He kisses her twice, soft but deep, before he pulls away from her and places a hand at the bottom of her shirt. He tugs on it in question and then looks up at her. She nods, knowing exactly what he’s asking. With her permission, he pulls the loose shirt off of her and tosses it to the floor. The cool air hits her body and she’s well aware of how she responds to it. Goosebumps rise up on her arms and her nipples harden almost immediately. She’s completely naked in front of Jughead aside from the panties she’s wearing. It’s the most he’s ever seen of her body. Before he’d only seen her in bikinis, revealing ones for sure, but nothing like this. She hasn’t been intimate with anyone in a long time and with Jughead it just feels so much _more_. More of what, she isn’t quite sure but she knows that it’s exciting and different. 

It’s a reflex the way her arms come up to try and shield her body from his eyes, but his hands reach out and hold them down at her sides. 

“Don’t do that,” he whispers, “don’t ever feel like you have to hide from me.” He leans down and places a kiss on her collarbone. “You’re fucking beautiful, Elizabeth Cooper.” She just nods, not trusting her voice right now. He continues kissing down her body, from her collarbone to her breasts and down her stomach. Her nerves start to act up as she realizes what exactly he’s going to do. 

He places a finger on the waistband of her underwear. “Can I take these off?” 

“Yes.” She had thought that was a given, she was about to yell at him to do it already. He’s slow about it though, as he hooks his fingers on the waistbands and slides them down her legs before tossing them as he had her shirt. 

He places a kiss on her left thigh, before moving to her right one. It seems like he feathers her thighs in kisses forever and her legs are already trembling. She’s already wet, just from the sensual touches he places on her legs and she isn’t sure how she’s supposed to survive any of this. Sex with Jughead is like something else entirely. It’s consuming and breathtaking and nothing’s actually happened yet. 

He pulls his lips away from her thighs and lines his face up with her clit. He lets out a breath of air and she jerks at the sensation she feels immediately. 

He’s not _touching_ her. She tries to push her hips forward a little so he’ll get the hint, but he places his palms onto them and pushes them down into the mattress. She whines and he just smirks at her. 

“What are you trying to do there, love?” 

The pet name has her swooning for a bit and she tries to gather her thoughts. What does she want? 

“Do you want me to do something?” He asks, playful smirk still on his face and she glares down at him. 

“You know what I want,” she bites out, tired of waiting. She wonders if he knew a single thing about moderation, since he was all sweet or all dominant and there was no in between. Jughead frowns at her and digs his fingers into her hips a little harshly. She gasps at the feeling and a part of her hopes that his fingertips leave little bruises on her skin. 

“If you want something then ask for it.” She gives him an exasperated look, embarrassed at even the thought. “Come on,” he urges her. “Ask nicely.”

If this were anyone else, she would tell them to fuck off without hesitation and probably stop the whole ordeal, but this isn’t just anyone. This is Jughead and so she does as he asks her, loving every minute of it. 

“Please,” she whispers out. It’s a single word, but it has Jughead leaning forward and placing a single kiss on her clit. It’s something, but it’s still not enough and she feels like she’s going to scream. “Jughead…”

“Yes?” He asks as he _finally_ sticks his tongue out, tasting her only once. “Do you need something?” 

“More,” she begs. “Please, Juggie, I need more.” 

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” The last thing she sees before he completely goes down on her, is a grin on his face that makes him look like the Cheshire cat. His mouth moves against her so heavenly, her hips try to buck up but he keeps a tight hold on them, not allowing her to move from where he wants her. 

Her hands reach out for Jughead’s hair and tangle themselves in his dark locks. He’s doing everything so perfectly that Betty thinks he might have been made for this. It doesn’t take long before she’s coming undone completely under him, her fingers pulling a little too hard on his hair as her legs shake. She cries out his name as he gets her through her orgasm and just when it’s about to become too much, he pulls away from her. 

He comes up and kisses her on her neck, a soft and sweet thing that’s a contrast to everything they’re doing right now but it’s perfect. Everything about this has been perfect. She doesn’t feel her typical revolt at the word, instead it sounds so right to her she couldn’t describe whatever this was any other way.

“Are we really doing this?” He asks, a boyish grin on his face. Betty smiles and a laugh passes through her lips. 

“I think we already did.” They smile at each other, as if they can’t really believe it’s happening and in a way she can’t. She finds comfort in the way they had just laughed over it. She once read that if you can’t laugh with your partner while having sex then you shouldn’t be together. She doesn’t know if she can classify Jughead as her partner or boyfriend, but that’s a conversation for a different time. 

Jughead leans over to the right of her and pulls out a condom from the bedside drawer. Betty raises an eyebrow, wondering why he would have needed them before, but she doesn’t say anything. She watches as he rips open the packet and puts the condom on before lining himself up with her. 

She suddenly feels alarmingly nervous. She’s fully aware that their entire dynamic has officially changed now. It changed the moment she called herself ‘his’ and kissed him, but this seems so much more serious. If they do this then there’s no backing out; she doesn’t want to back out, not at all, but she’s still nervous. 

Jughead must be able to sense the nerves coming off her in waves, because he leans forward and places a chaste kiss on her cheek and then one on her forehead. 

“We can stop,” he tells her. “We’ll go as far as you want and nothing more.” 

“I want this,” she reassures him, because _God, she wants this._ “I want you.”

His eyes stare back at hers, full of lust and something more that she can’t think of right now. 

“Well, I better give you what you want.” He smiles before pressing into her gently. She gasps out at the feeling of him as she tries to get used to his size. It’s been awhile since she’s had sex and Jughead’s a little more than average. He’s slow going in, allowing her to adjust to him and she’s incredibly thankful for it. 

Once he’s all the way inside, she lets out a deep breath. He stays completely still, not moving in fear of possibly hurting her and when she finally feels good she gives him a smile. 

“Okay,” she tells him. “I’m good.” 

He pulls out of her almost completely, leaving only the tip of himself inside of her. She looks at him in confusion, but then he moves all the way back inside of her in one swift motion and she swears her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. It feels incredible and she lets out a long moan. 

Jughead starts up a slow rhythm as he rolls his hips into her. It feels amazing and she lifts her hands up to touch the side of his face, but he’s quick to grab them both in one of his hands as he holds them down over her head. His only response to her questioning glance is a smile. She rolls her eyes at him, but stops short as he snaps his hips into her roughly. 

“Don’t roll your eyes,” he chastises her. “If I let go of your hands, will you keep them up here?” Betty nods quickly at his question even though she immediately misses the feeling of his hand holding hers. Jughead brings the hand that had been holding hers down and cups her cheek with it. “You’re so beautiful.” He leans down to kiss her and Betty chases his lips with her own. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of kissing him. He kisses her in a way that she’s only ever dreamed of being kissed before and she lives for it. 

His lips leave hers as he continues thrusting into her fast and rough, panting against her mouth as he does. Suddenly, Jughead wraps his arms underneath her as he brings her up closer to him, pressing their chests against each other. Betty gasps out at the sudden movement and how it angles him differently inside of her. 

“Fuck,” he groans out, lips pressed to her ear, “you feel so good.” The words send a shiver down her spine. “I’m not going to last long, Betty.”

“Then don’t,” she tells him, urging him to come. 

“Yeah?” He says with a chuckle, but it’s way too breathy. 

“Come,” she whispers out. 

He tightens his hold on her as he continues to fuck her, every ounce of painful restraining control he’d been forced to practice now gone, Betty’s moans cheering him on as he finally comes undone on top of her. They’re both panting when he pulls out of her, rolling to the left of her to lay down as he pulls off the condom and tosses it into the trash can. 

“Next time I’m going to fuck you harder,” he tells her as he props himself up on his elbow and looks down at her, “and longer.” 

She bites her lips at his words. “Is that a promise?” 

“Mhm,” he hums in agreement before leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. 

She wants to ask him what this all means. He’d called her his earlier, but what exactly does that mean? 

“Earlier you said I was yours, what do you mean by that?” 

“What do you think I mean?” he reaches out with his hand and brushes her hair away from her face before running his thumb against her cheek. “You’re mine. I know that to a certain extent I’m going to have to share you with the outside world and I’m okay with that, but I won’t share you with anyone else. No more PR dates or anything like that. No one’s going to get to have you the way that I am.” 

Betty just nods, speechless by his words. She can get the PR stunts to stop, that’s easy. She just has to say she’s in a relationship and her team will back off, she just hopes they don’t ask about who she’s dating. She wonders if it’s even a problem to date Jughead. She knows that he’s her bodyguard so there has to be some kind of line of professionalism, but if there is they‘ve definitely passed it by now.

“And I swear to God, Betty, I am going to protect you.” He holds her face securely in his hand, forcing her to look up at him. “You don’t have anything to fear when you’re with me. No one is going to hurt you ever again.” 

It’s a promise she’s heard countless other times from other people, but this time she believes him wholeheartedly. Jughead wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She trusts him. 

That night they fall asleep together, Jughead holding onto her tightly as she stares out of the window and for once she feels happy to wake up the next day. For once she’s excited for what’s to come next. 

 

Cheryl calls her the next morning asking if she can fit in a quick shoot as a favor for a friend of hers. It makes her a bit skeptical that her usually transparent manager is unwilling to name names, but she decides not to worry. Betty is less than enthusiastic about it though, especially because she’s feeling really sore after last night. She’s not one to disappoint though, and work is work so she limps her happy ass all the way to the location. 

Jughead had spent the entire car ride smirking. James had driven them and it was almost as if he knew what they had done last night with the way he glared at Jughead and ignored Betty’s attempts at starting conversation. She didn’t understand what was bothering him. It was odd and not like him at all, but she decided not to press the issue. James’ life wasn’t really any concern of hers just like her life wasn’t much concern of his. 

She was however, _this close_ to punching Jughead in his smug little face. She’d tried to hide her slight limp and the way she’d wince when shoved along by her team, but she knew she wasn’t fooling him at all. 

“Betty! Can you please try to stand up straight?” Cheryl called off from the side. Usually Betty loved when she stayed for the shoots, but right now she kind of wanted to throttle her. 

She did as asked though and twirls around for the cameraman, hoping to give him something to work with. She does a few more poses for him, laughs with the crew while posing, and just acts as silly as possible. She was once told that the best shoots are done when you’re happy and show it and she’s always believed that to be true. 

When she’s finally done, she’s excited to get some well deserved rest. She makes her way to the dressing room and takes off the heels and dress she’d been wearing. Just as Betty’s muscles relax and she feels even a slight bit at peace, Cheryl throws the door open and walks into the room. 

“Don’t you ever knock?” Betty snaps as she tries to cover herself up. 

“Oh, please,” Cheryl says with an eye roll. “You act like I haven’t seen you naked before. Remember the hot tub in Ibiza? You were pretty drunk but I know you remember that.” Betty’s cheeks redden as she glares at the redhead. “Anyway, it’s nothing I haven’t seen—.” 

Cheryl stops mid sentence and Betty looks up at her. She’s staring right at Betty’s hips. Betty looks down and curses Jughead thousands of times in her head once she sees what Cheryl’s looking at. 

“Oh, my god! Are those bruises? Betty Cooper, you’re absolutely scandalous!” 

“Cheryl—.”

“Are those—? Oh, my god, is that a hickey on your _thigh_?” Cheryl shrieks out the words and Betty tries to quiet her down. The last thing she needs is everyone outside hearing this. “Seriously, you’re having sex with someone? Since when? How did I not know about this? I don’t understand. Who could you possibly be having sex with?” 

“It’s no one,” Betty grumbles. She can’t tell her about Jughead, not yet at least. She isn’t ready. 

“Are you seeing Reggie again? Because if you are and you kept it a secret, I’m going to be really upset.” 

“What? No. No! It wasn’t Reggie. It was a one night stand.” She winces as soon as the words fly out of her mouth. A one night stand? Really? She doubts Cheryl will even buy the lie. She’s never had a one night stand before in her life, but she doesn’t know what else to say to get her off her back. 

Sure enough, Cheryl stares at her with a look of bewilderment on her face. Betty’s waiting for her to call her out on the lie and guess the only other guy it could be, but to her surprise Cheryl just grins. 

“Taking one out of my book I see. Very nice, Betty. I love a classic ‘good girl gone bad’ story.” 

She just rolls her eyes at Cheryl’s words, but doesn’t disagree with them. If it gets Cheryl to stop asking so many questions then she’ll take it. 

“Was he hot?” 

“We’re not talking about this,” Betty says as she throws on her clothes and grabs her purse from the table. 

“Oh, come on!” Cheryl whines as she follows her out of the room. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had some good sex? The other night this guy started crying because he said I had the prettiest tits he’d ever seen.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it was a real mood killer honestly. I need to live vicariously through you right now!”

“You really want to know?” Betty gives in as she faces her friend. She silently resolves to not name names or give any identifying details, but she has _no problem_ living through the experience all over again. Cheryl just nods eagerly. “He was absolutely gorgeous and such a gentleman in bed. He was… he was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before in my life.” 

“You sure you’re not in love with the guy? I’ve definitely thought I’ve loved a few guys after really good sex. Honestly I’m glad that it was that good.” 

Betty just rolls her eyes before waving goodbye to the redhead and making her way over to Jughead. 

“What was that about?” He asked as they walked outside together. 

“Cheryl was living vicariously through my one night stand,” she tells him with a smirk. 

“One night stand, huh?” 

“Mhm.” 

Jughead looks down at her, bites his lip, and then looks around them. Betty follows his gaze, trying to see what he’s looking for. 

“What if I wanted to put my arm around you right now?”

It’s such a cute and innocent thing to ask, but Betty knows that the reasons behind him having to ask are anything _but_ cute and innocent. Such a heavy and sharp dualism existed within him. One minute he was sweet and asking for permission just to put his arm around her, and at another moment he was fiercely protective and dominant. It’s a dualism she’s come to appreciate. She quickly looks around just like he had and she finds that there’s no one in the back alley they had taken. 

“Jughead Jones, you filthy boy,” she jokes, “be my guest.” 

He laughs as he throws his arms over her shoulders, leading her down the deserted alleyway. It feels so normal, as if they’re just two people enjoying a nice walk together. She doesn’t feel like she’s famous or like Jughead’s protecting her from all the danger surrounding her. Right now she just feels like Betty and Jughead, two people who are kind of new and unsure of a lot of things but one thing she knows; she’s sure about Jughead. 

 

They’re in the living room watching TV together later that night. Betty’s sitting on a pillow on the floor while Jughead brushes her hair before bed. She’d begged him to watch The Adventures of Mr. Toad with her and he’d been a bit reluctant at first, but ever so often he’ll let out a little snort of laughter and Betty will smile to herself. 

“I talked to my mom the other day,” she tells him randomly. They’ve never really talked about their family, aside from when Jughead had told her the story about his mother. After that, he hadn’t even asked because he assumed it was a no-go, even in casual conversation. Jughead is however, pleased to have a look into the world that laid behind her.

“How did that go?”

“Good, I miss her a lot. I miss my sister too. I haven’t really seen either of them in a while and I don’t talk to them as often as I should.” She pauses, wondering if she should tell Jughead about what her mother had told her on the phone about visiting. What the hell, she thinks to herself. What could be the worst he could say? “My mom told me to come visit.” 

“Yeah?” His voice doesn’t change, it sounds just as easy and interested as it had before and she takes that as a good sign. 

“Yeah. I was thinking maybe I could go down and visit her next week. Maybe for a few days.” 

Jughead doesn’t say anything for a while and when she turns around to look at him, he’s staring down at the brush in his hands. 

“Juggie? You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, but it sounds a bit uneven. He gives her a smile that looks a bit forced. “Well, I hope you have fun.” 

“Well, you see, that’s the thing,” she grabs ahold of his fingers and plays with them, her nerves acting up. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to come with me. You can just come as my bodyguard, you don’t have to come as my boyfriend or anything. I don’t want to put you in that kind of situation.”

“Boyfriend?” 

She looks up and Jughead is smiling widely down at her, eyes gleaming. It’s the most genuine he’s looked in a while. He doesn’t look stone cold or furiously protective, his jaw isn’t set in the angular fashion it normally was. He looked _soft._

“Well, yeah. I thought that’s what this was. I thought we were kind of exclusive.” 

“We are,” he promises as he places his hand on her cheek, caressing her face before touching her bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I just wanted to hear you say it.” 

Betty just smiles as she shakes her head at him. 

“And I’d be honoured to meet your family if that’s what you want.” 

“Well, do you want that?” She asks him, still a bit unsure.

“I’d love nothing more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and feel free to talk to me on [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com)! <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to my amazing beta @itstenafterfour. Also blame her for the ending of this chapter.
> 
> Happy reading and take note of the newest tag added to this story. :')

“I mean, I have a right to be mad! Can you believe he just hung up on me like that?”

Betty frowns as she listens to Veronica’s story about her recent relationship troubles with Archie. They’re currently sitting on Betty’s bed while Jughead’s out doing some grocery shopping, letting the two girls catch up. “Catching up” in this case means listening to Veronica complain about her being seen with an old friend and a very suggestive headline that Archie wasn’t a fan of and might have overreacted to.

“It was pretty childish of him,” Betty offers to her friend. “But I mean, you have to look at it from his point of view, even if his point of view is kind of shitty. He probably misses you a lot and he doesn’t get to be with you while he’s on tour so he’s probably just jealous that some other guy gets to do all these things with you that he isn’t able to do.” 

“We were getting tacos!” 

“It’s the small things,” Betty shrugs. 

She watches as the fire seems to leave Veronica’s eyes and the brunette slouches, letting go of the anger she’d been holding onto.

“So you think I should call him before I go to bed tonight?” 

Betty nods. “Just because he’s childish, that doesn’t mean you need to be, too. Besides, it’s Archie. He’s probably regretting being such a jerk right now, but you know how he hates to apologize first.”

Veronica snorts as she nods her head. “Thanks for listening to me, B. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“That’s what I’m here for.” 

“I thought you were going back home for a while,” Veronica says as she plays with a snowglobe that had been on Betty’s dresser. “What happened to that?”

Betty has to stomp down on the anger that the question brings back. 

She had brought the idea up to Cheryl who had seemed less than thrilled over it and told her it would be wise to wait before going home to visit. Betty wasn’t sure why it would be wise or why she couldn’t go, but she knew better than to try and go behind Cheryl’s back so with a sigh she had agreed to wait. 

She wasn’t scheduled for anything big in the next week, just a few small shoots, which she was thankful for. She was tired, more so than usual. It seemed like life was slowly draining her energy away. Aside from all the crazy shit going on in it, she was exhausted from the amount of shoots that Cheryl had her going to. She knew it was part of her job and she loved it, but she needed a break. Going back home was supposed to be a break, it was supposed to allow her to get away from Los Angeles for a while, but she still somehow managed to get stuck in the city that never sleeps. 

“Just Cheryl being Cheryl,” is all she offers. She adores Cheryl and she thinks of her as a good friend, but the girl was all work and no play. Betty didn’t understand why she couldn’t just take a little break for a few days. She didn’t think she was asking for much. She just wanted to be home, but she can’t do anything about it. Cheryl more or less runs her life now. A contract literally says that she kind of does unless Betty fires her and well, this isn’t that serious. She just doesn’t understand why she can’t go back to Riverdale for a few days. She would have Jughead with her so it’s not like she’d be alone and besides, nothing bad was going to happen to her over there. She was safer in Riverdale than she was over here. 

“I’m sorry,” Veronica offers, sounding like she really means it. “Is it because she’s scared or something? Wouldn’t your bodyguard go with you?”

“Yeah, I asked Jughead if he wanted to go and he was all for it--.”

“Wait,” Veronica cuts her off. “Jughead? Who’s Jughead?” 

“My bodyguard,” Betty tells her, forgetting that Veronica doesn’t know about his nickname. It had just slipped out.

“I thought his name was Forsythe?” 

“It is, but he doesn’t like it.”

“I don’t blame him,” Veronica mumbles and then holds her hands up in defense whenever Betty glares at her. “So that’s his nickname or something? Cool. It kind of fits him better. How’s all that going, by the way?”

“What do you mean?”

“We haven’t been able to talk much and I know that your life has been pretty crazy lately. Is having a full time bodyguard making it at least a little better?”

Betty tries to hide the smile that she can feel spreading across her face. “He’s cool.”

“Cool?” Veronica questions, eyes narrowing. “You have literally never described anyone as cool before. Do you… oh my god, you have a crush on him!”

“I do not!” _If only you knew._

“You so do! This is seriously the plot for a romance movie, I should tell my agent about this.” 

“Veronica!” She shouts, trying to get her friend to shut up. “It’s not like that.” 

“Then what’s it like?” Betty doesn’t say anything and Veronica widens her eyes in understanding. “Holy shit. You’re sleeping with him! You’re sleeping with your bodyguard! Oh my fucking god. Is it good? Is _he_ good? He definitely looks like he’d be good in bed. Remember when Kevin said he looked like he’d be kinky in bed? Is he?”

“Can you stop?” Betty hisses out. “We’re not having sex. Well, we _are_ but it’s not just that. We’re dating.” 

Veronica’s mouth drops open in complete shock and Betty’s face turns red. Somehow Veronica’s reaction was better when she thought they were just fucking.

“You’re dating your bodyguard?” 

“Well, yeah. I really like him, V.” 

“Sure, but I mean you’re paying him, Betty. Isn’t that kind of weird? I mean how do you even know that he really likes you back? What if he’s just going along with all of this because he’s kind of being employed by you?” The words slice through her. She’d never once thought of it like that, but now that Veronica’s put the idea in her head, she can’t help but think of it. 

“No,” she says gently, not sure if she’s telling Veronica or herself. “It’s not like that. He likes me. He didn’t even want to at first…” as she says the words though, she realizes just how bad they sound. Veronica offers her a sad smile and Betty just drops the entire argument she’d had in her mind. 

“I’m just saying. This is a shady industry, you have to be careful. Maybe he truly does like you back, and if he does then I’m so happy for you two, but you need to be on guard. You can’t just fall for him without thinking of your safety first.”

Her safety? She doesn’t mean…?

“Are you trying to say something, _Veronica?_ Because if you are then you shouldn’t beat around the bush.” 

“All I’m saying is that you have a stalker on the loose and you don’t have any reason to trust anyone at this point. Not even your bodyguard.” 

Betty doesn’t fill her in on the polaroid Jughead had been given and how he was now a target so it was impossible for him to be the stalker. Instead she just nods. It’s kind of hard to argue with Veronica and she doesn’t exactly have the energy for it right now.

“A topic for another day,” Veronica says easily, which is what she usually says whenever she wants to stop talking about something serious. “Anyway I really want a fruit tart from Whole Foods so I think we should go.” She’s putting on her shoes before Betty can even agree. If Jughead were here, he’d definitely want to go with them, but he isn’t and she isn’t sure if she should tell Veronica that they should wait. 

“I can ask Jughead to get us one,” she offers, knowing that he’s shopping somewhere. 

Veronica just flicks her hand, disregarding Betty’s words. “No way. I don’t want to stay locked up in your apartment, no offense, and you shouldn’t want to either. You need some fresh air and we can walk! It’s close by.” 

She’d lost the argument before she even started it, so with a sigh she slips on her Chanel sandals and grabs her bag from her dresser. She grabs her phone and sends Jughead a text, letting him know where she’s going. 

**Going out with Veronica real quick! I’ll probably be home before you, but just thought I’d let you know either way. :)**

“Hurry up!” Veronica rushes, grabbing her arm and pulling her from her room. “I’m hungry!” 

 

Veronica stands in front of the bakery part of Whole Foods, looking at their different tarts and cupcakes and macaroons. In the end she settles on the biggest fruit tart they have to offer. It seems like a little much, but Veronica’s been stress eating lately so Betty doesn’t say anything.

She’s startled when she feels a tap of the back of her shoulder. She turns around and sees Marisol, from Chuck’s, standing right in front of her. 

“Marisol!” She greets, a bit taken aback but happy to see the other girl. She hasn’t seen her since the hospital. “How are you? It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you,” she says as she hugs her. “I’m good. How are you feeling? You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Betty nods. “I’ve been a lot better. Thank you so much for going to see me again. It meant a lot.” 

“Who’s this?” Veronica joins in the conversation, fruit tart in her hands. She gives Marisol a cool glare and Betty has to roll her eyes at her best friend. 

“This is Marisol,” she introduces. “She was there when Chuck drugged me. She helped me out.”

“You were there? You didn’t think to stop it?” 

Betty looks at Veronica in horror while Marisol’s face turns red in embarrassment. 

“Veronica!” 

“I’m just saying,” Veronica spits out, eyes narrowing. “If I had been at that party then none of that would have happened. You had your bodyguard and a supposed friend there and you still managed to end up in the hospital.” 

“Bodyguard?” Marisol asks, confused. 

“Go pay for the tart, Ronnie,” Betty hisses out. Veronica just huffs out before stalking off towards the registers. “I’m so sorry about her,” Betty tells Marisol. “She’s really protective. I just have a lot of stuff going on in my life right now and she worries.” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” the brunette says with an uneasy smile. “I understand where she’s coming from.”

“How do you know Chuck though?” It’s a question Betty had been wondering about for a while now. As far as she knew, Marisol wasn’t famous herself. 

“One of my girl friends is dating a guy on the same team as him so sometimes I go to his parties.” Betty nods at the answer. “I am sorry that I couldn’t stop it. I don’t know how I’d react if I were in your place. You’re incredibly strong.” 

Betty snorts. Strong? She doubts it. She feels like she’s the furthest thing from strong these days. She just has worse things going on than Chuck Clayton, so she can’t let this one thing bring her down.

“Thanks,” is all she says instead. “So you live in Los Angeles?” 

“Beverly Hills,” Marisol clarifies. “My boyfriend works over here though, so I was going to bring him some sweets to brighten up his day.” She holds up the tiny cupcake and macaroons that are in a baggie. Betty smiles at the sweet gesture. 

“We should hang out sometime.” She doesn’t have nearly as much girl friends as she should and Marisol was a sweet girl. 

Marisol looks taken aback but she smiles and nods her head happily. “Yeah, definitely! Here,” she pulls out her phone and hands it to Betty, “give me your number and I’ll text you mine.” 

Once they exchange numbers, Betty tells her that she’ll let her know when she’s free and then they say goodbye before Betty runs off to find Veronica. 

She’s annoyed at the fact that Ronnie had thought it was okay to talk to Marisol the way she did. It wasn’t Marisol’s fault that Chuck was a dick, there was nothing she could have done to stop it and Betty didn’t blame a single person except for Chuck. She’d heard the way Veronica had decided to put blame on Jughead too and that didn’t sit well with her. 

Veronica stands outside of Whole Foods and Betty goes up to her, still feeling the anger at her best friend’s words. 

“What the hell was that, V?” 

Veronica whirls around and glares at her. “I’m not apologizing for what I said. Someone should have been there watching you.”

“I don’t need to be watched over! I’m an adult.”

“Apparently you do. A stalker, being drugged? What’s next, Betty?”

Betty flinches back as if Veronica had slapped her. She knows that she isn’t trying to be mean right now, she’s just worried about her, but the words hurt. It’s not like Betty asked for any of this. 

“It’s not like I wanted any of this!” She hisses out. “I didn’t ask for any of that and you know what, it’s not anyone’s fault that this is happening. You can’t go around blaming innocent people like Marisol and Jughead.” They probably look insane, arguing in front of Whole Foods and she’s sure this will be all over the internet in a few hours, but she doesn’t care. All the anger she’s been holding back is boiling over and while she didn’t want to lash at Veronica, she is. 

“For a bodyguard he sure is pretty shit,” Veronica sneers. “Let’s hope he’s a better boyfriend.” 

Betty just stares at Veronica in disgust before turning around and walking away from her. 

“Where are you going?” Veronica calls out to her. Betty doesn’t answer her but when she turns back around, Veronica is getting into a cab. Betty just shakes her head. 

Betty wishes Veronica could hear her right now, because she wants to tell her how contradictory her actions are. For someone who seems so worried about her, she sure didn’t have any trouble leaving her to walk home on her own. Sure, Betty had walked away first but if the roles had been reversed, she would have chased after her. She’s not in the wrong here. She isn’t. 

With a sigh, Betty takes off walking in the direction of her apartment. She just hopes Jughead isn’t there when she gets home, because if she walks in alone she knows he’s not going to be happy. 

 

“Where were you?” 

Of course. For some reason, because fate has decided to hate her, Jughead is standing in the kitchen as soon as she gets back to the apartment. He’s standing with the usual cold look that he wears when he’s unhappy with her. It should look intimidating, but instead it just looks inviting. His arms are crossed over his chest, allowing his muscles to pop, and he looks taller than usual. 

“I told you I went to Whole Foods.” 

“With Veronica,” Jughead nods, “so where is she?” 

Betty must look absolutely miserable because Jughead drops the stern voice he’d been using and walks over to her. 

“What happened?” He asks, voice soft as he grabs her hand and pulls her closer to him. 

“She’s just been so on edge lately because of Archie being gone and I guess she just decided to take it out on me. It’s fine. I probably shouldn’t have antagonized her.”

“Don’t do that,” Jughead orders. “Don’t try to make this your fault.” 

“I shouldn’t have walked away from her.”

“You left her?” Jughead asks, voice rising. “Like you guys took a cab together and you dropped her off at her house?” She looks up at Jughead, giving him a smile that probably looks like it’s trying way too hard to be innocent and he groans. “You got a ride home by yourself?” When Betty doesn’t say anything, he glares at her. “Please tell me you didn’t walk home by yourself.” 

“Whole Foods is like a ten minute walk,” she tries to defend. 

“Betty,” he starts. 

“I was safe! It’s the middle of the day, nothing was going to happen to me.”

“You don’t know that,” he argues. “This is Los Angeles we’re talking about. Even if your stalker wasn’t on the loose, anything could have happened. You could have been mugged or ambushed by a group of crazed fans.”

Betty rolls her eyes. “I could have been, but I wasn’t.” 

“I wish you would be more careful, Betty. I don’t want anything to happen to you. You mean a lot to me, you know?” His eyes look so sincere and Betty remembers Veronica’s words from earlier about how Jughead could have just been with her because she was paying him. The idea leaves a nasty taste in her mouth and she wonders why Veronica’s so upset about her and Jughead. She hadn’t seemed phased at all whenever she had thought they were just having sex, but as soon as Betty told her they were together, everything changed.

She briefly wonders if she should tell Jughead about the conversation, but decides against it. No good is going to come from telling him that and she knows it. 

“I know,” she whispers to him. “I’m sorry.” She tiptoes up and places a gentle kiss on his lips. He seems a bit surprised by the action, but he smiles into the kiss before pulling away. 

“Help me unpack the groceries?” He asks as they walk back into the kitchen. Betty nods and begins to go through all the bags with him. 

It’s such a simple thing, unpacking groceries with her boyfriend, but it seems like something incredible to her. She’s done it with him before, but it’s just so different now that he’s her boyfriend. It feels like there’s a deeper meaning behind it. She doesn’t know if that sounds crazy, but it still makes her smile as she takes out bottles of water from their package and puts them into the fridge. It feels strangely domestic and she enjoys it.

Jughead is putting some strawberries into the fridge as well and when she turns around, he places a kiss on her forehead before continuing to put them up. It’s a simple action but her heart soars. She could get used to this. 

 

Jughead cooks them dinner and then they watch some low budget horror movie that’s on TV. It’s a good night by all means, but Betty feels a bit empty. She realizes it’s because of her fight with Veronica. She can’t help but feel terrible after everything that went down earlier. 

While Jughead is in the shower, Betty tries to call up Veronica. The call goes to her voicemail both times though and Betty has to refrain from throwing her phone. Veronica’s known for being petty when she wants to be, even taking it to some dramatic extremes, but this is a little too much even for her. In the end, she decides to just let her friend cool down. She knows Veronica so she knows that none of this will matter tomorrow. Veronica just needs to sleep it off. They both do.

She changes into a pair of pajamas, which happens to be just a silk black nightie from Victoria’s Secret, and brushes her hair in her bathroom. She looks into the mirror, at her reflection, and feels a sudden sadness. The person staring back at her doesn’t look anything like her. She looks miserable and it sucks. She bites down on her lip once she notices the way it begins to wobble. She wants to get out of Los Angeles. It’s as simple as that. She’s tired of being here where she feels like outsider. For a while, this place had been home. It had been all she knew and now she wasn’t even sure if that was true anymore. 

“Betty?” Jughead calls out. She startles as she turns around and sees him standing in the doorway, hair wet and in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants. A few water droplets from his hair land on his chest and she watches as they slide down on his abs and then disappear into the waistband of his pants. “Are you okay?”

She could lie and say yes, but there’s no point. Not anymore and not with him. She just shakes her head. 

“I miss home,” she admits to him. “I really wanted to go back home and I just wish that I had never moved here in the first place.”

It’s the first time she admits the words aloud to herself, but she realizes that they’re true. She doesn’t want to do this anymore. If she had known the price she’d have to pay then she would have just stayed in Riverdale and gone to college and became a journalist like her mom. She never would have moved to California. 

“You don’t mean that,” Jughead says softly. “You’re just upset because everything is piling up on you and you miss home and your mom. I’m sorry that Cheryl said you couldn’t go back, but you know that you love your job.” 

“Is it worth it, though?” She asks him. “Everything that’s happening… is it even worth it anymore?” 

“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know. Only you can answer that for yourself, but I do know one thing. If you let this person win and drive you back to your hometown, you’re going to regret it your entire life. You are so much stronger than all of this, Betty.” He grabs her face with his hands and forces her to look at him. “Your stalker, the industry, Chuck, Cheryl and her rules, Veronica and her anger, you’re stronger than all of them. You’re going to be okay, Betty and it won’t be because of me, it’ll be because of yourself. You’re stronger than you think.”

“And if you really want to go back home then I’ll talk to Cheryl about it.” 

“You think she’ll listen to you?” Betty asks, unsure. 

“I told you that I’d do whatever I could to make sure you were safe and happy and I meant it.” He smiles at her and brings his lips down to her forehead, placing a chaste kiss on it before pulling away. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow and see if I can get her to change her mind. And I’ll even get to go back home with you as your boyfriend,” he lifts his eyebrows up in suggestion and she laughs.

“Are you sure you’d be okay with that?” She asks insecurely. “If you think it’s too early then you don’t have to.” 

“We aren’t little kids,” he says with an eyeroll. “If you want me to meet your mom then I’d love to. I just hope she doesn’t fall in love with me, too. I’m kind of a catch, you know?” 

Betty laughs and shoves him off of her. Before she can walk away, he grabs onto her forearm and brings her back to him. 

“That wasn’t very nice,” he pouts but it looks absolutely sinful. “You should apologize.”

“Not likely.” 

Jughead just clicks his tongue at her but before she can do anything else, he grabs her by the hips and lifts her onto the sink counter. She gasps, not expecting it, but her face turns red as she remembers the last time she was in this position with him. 

“Apologize,” he whispers as he settles in between her legs. He brings his lips to her neck and kisses the skin there lightly, so lightly that Betty tries to push her neck into them harder. Jughead pulls away before she can, though.

She bites her lip in an attempt to hide the whine that was threatening to leave them. 

“Make me,” she whispers into his ear. 

He just chuckles as he places a hand on her thigh and drags his fingers over her skin lightly. The sensation has goosebumps breaking out over her legs and she shivers. She knows what he’s going to do, but it still shocks her when he pulls her panties to the side and drags a finger across her folds. 

She’s wet. She is absolutely soaking wet. It’s incredible how Jughead can turn her on so fast, but she loves it. 

Jughead slowly pushes a single finger inside of her and she widens her legs at the action. It’s just one finger but for some reason it feels so fucking incredible. He pumps it in and out of her at such a slow pace that she wants to cry. Soon she realizes that it’s not going to give her what she wants. She wants more. 

“Juggie,” she moans. “I need more.” 

“More what?” He coos as he puts another finger inside of her and curls them inside of her, causing her back to arch. “Isn’t this enough for you?” 

She shakes her head. 

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

He bites at her neck and she hisses out at the action. He licks over the spot he’d bitten, trying to soothe the pain. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

“Fuck me,” she whimpers, not even caring about sounding needy at this point. Before the words even fall from her lips, Jughead is already pulling his fingers away from her. The action has her pouting until he slides down her panties and tosses them to the floor. 

“And how do you want me?” He asks, as he pulls down his own pants, rubbing his hand up and down his cock slowly. Betty watches the action and finds that she loves it. “Hard and rough?” He asks as he kisses her and bites her lip. “Or slow and soft?” He licks her lip, soothing the spot he’d bitten. 

A part of her wants to say hard and rough, but a bigger part of her knows that isn’t what she wants right now. Right now she just wants to feel whole; she wants to feel complete. 

“Slow,” she tells him, “soft.” 

Jughead smiles and nods at her request. “Perfect.” 

He lines himself up with her and it’s like she can already feel him before he’s even inside of her. They’ve only have sex once before but she remembers it perfectly; remembers the feeling of him inside of her and how amazing he had felt. She didn’t realize she’d been missing it until just now.

As he pushes himself inside of her slowly, she lets out a moan. At this angle, he’s able to slide into her deeper than before and she can feel him _everywhere_. Once he’s fully inside of her, he stays completely still and she wonders if that’s part of going slow or if it’s just him trying to savor the moment. 

He begins a slow and steady pace that has her eyes rolling to the back of her head. It’s not like the first time they had sex, it’s not rough and fast and it doesn’t have her panting as if she’d just ran a marathon. Instead it leaves her completely breathless and moaning gently every time he pulls all the way out and pushes back in. 

“Like this?” He whispers into her ear, biting her lobe. “This how you want it?”

“Yes,” she gasps out, “this is perfect.” 

Jughead doesn’t answer her back, he just keeps up the rhythm and Betty wraps one arm around his shoulders as she brings herself closer to his face so she can kiss him. She’s never had sex sitting down on a counter before. For some reason it feels so scandalous to her and she loves it. 

“You feel so good,” Jughead pants into her ear. “I could fuck you all day long.” The idea sounds so appealing to her and she moans out at just the thought, clenching around his cock. Jughead takes notice of this and he smirks at her. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He pushes a strand of hair away from her face. “For me to just fuck you all day long until you didn’t remember anything else but my name?” 

She nods, not trusting her voice right now. 

“One day I’ll have to do that,” he promises. “I’ll fuck you until it becomes so much that you’re begging me to stop.” She doubts that she’d ever do that. She couldn’t imagine ever asking Jughead to stop. If anything she feels like she’d be begging him to never stop.

“Do you want to come?” Jughead asks in a teasing manner, noticing the way her legs are starting to shake and how her hold on him has tightened. 

“Yes,” she gasps out, feeling her orgasm creep up on her. It’s _right_ there. “Yes.” 

“Don’t.” 

He pulls out suddenly and this time Betty does cry out at the loss of him. She looks up at him, eyes wide and full of betrayal. 

“You don’t get to come until I tell you so, okay?” 

Her eyes widen, she’s a bit confused by his words. Her entire body feels off and she feels like she’s floating. 

“Okay?” He asks again, sweeter, when she doesn’t answer. 

“Okay,” Betty whispers out. 

Jughead then gets on his knees and Betty nearly throws herself off the counter when he starts to flick his tongue against her already swollen clit. She lets out a soft cry, she’s way too sensitive from him fucking her but he doesn’t seem to care as he continues to play with her. 

“Juggie,” she cries, pulling on his hair a little roughly. It hurts from the sensitivity, but it also feels better than anything else in the world. It isn’t long before her legs begin shaking again as she squeezes them against his head. “Yes, yes, oh my God,” she’s just about to come whenever Jughead pulls away from her completely.

“What?” she cries out again, tears forming in her eyes from the frustration building up. 

“Apologize, Betty,” he orders, voice dropping an octave as he stands up while rubbing circles on her clit with his thumb. It’s too much and she tries to slide away from him. He isn’t having any of that though, as he places a hand on her upper thigh to keep her in place. “Apologize, Betty, and I’ll give you what you want.”

She doesn’t even know what she’s supposed to be apologizing for anymore, she’s already forgotten it. She doesn’t understand how Jughead can stay so calm and cool right now as she completely falls apart beneath him. 

“I’m sorry,” she tells him quickly. “I’m sorry.” She’d say just about anything right now if it meant he’d stop playing with her and finally let her come. 

“Good girl,” he smiles at her and before she knows it, he’s pressing himself back into her. This time he doesn’t go slow though. He thrusts into her fast and harshly and Betty has to wrap her arms and legs around him so that she doesn’t fall. 

She pants out against his ear and he does the same. She can tell that he’s getting close too by the way his thrusts begin to lose rhythm. 

“Come,” he orders her and just like that, his words send her over the edge. 

Her orgasm almost hurts, but it hurts in the best way possible. Jughead keeps fucking her through it and right before he’s about to come, he pulls out and comes all over her stomach. She watches in fascination as it covers her belly. 

Jughead places his forehead onto her shoulder and she runs her fingers through his hair in a comforting way. His come starts to drip down her stomach and it feels weird, but she doesn’t say anything about it. She’s too busy holding Jughead right now. 

Soon enough though, he pulls away from her and grabs a hand towel from the cabinet before wetting it and wiping everything off of her.

“I’m so tired,” Betty whispers to Jughead. She feels completely drained and her bones feel like jelly inside of her. She puts all of her weight against him as she closes her eyes. 

“Sleep,” he tells her as he picks her up off the counter and carries her off to his bedroom bridal style. 

He tucks her in before laying down next to her. They’re both completely naked right now and Betty scoots over closer to him and wraps herself around him. She’s never slept naked with someone before and she finds herself loving the way Jughead’s bare skin feels against hers. 

He runs his hands through her hair, just like she’d done to him earlier, and the action soon has her drifting off into a deep sleep. 

 

Betty stops by Cheryl’s office the next day to go over her schedule for the next month. Cheryl’s a pretty busy person, but her secretary lets Betty go by without any second thoughts or questions. 

Cheryl’s office is as pristine and clean as one would imagine it to be. Even her employees look flawless and Betty often wonders why none of them are models. She’d be glad to give them her place if they asked for it. 

She starts the long walk down the hall to Cheryl’s office. It’s the very last room on the right because Cheryl had insisted that it had an incredible view of the city and she absolutely had to have it. Betty doesn’t blame her though, the view was really incredible. 

When she finally reaches the room, she doesn’t think to knock or anything since she usually lets herself in. She simply pushes the mahogany door open slowly, but stops once she hears a hushed voice speaking. She strains her ears, trying to hear if someone is with Cheryl or if it’s a phone call. 

“No,” she hears Cheryl snap in anger. “Those weren’t your instructions.” There’s a beat before she talks again. “I don’t care if there was a delay!” 

Betty decides that she must be on the phone, but it seems like the conversation has her stressed out and she doesn’t want to interrupt anything. Just as she’s about to close the door, she hears something that catches her attention. 

“The package has to be there,” Cheryl instructs. “I paid you good money to make sure it got there on time.” There’s another pause. “She won’t be there, no. She’s going to be at a photoshoot.” Another pause. “Just make sure it gets done!” 

Betty waits, her blood running cold, to see if Cheryl’s going to say anything else. When she doesn’t, and when Betty feels like she’s in the clear, she knocks hesitantly on Cheryl’s door. 

“Come in!” 

As soon as she sees Betty, her agent smiles at her. Betty tries to return the smile, but after what she’d just heard, she feels a little uneasy. Who would Cheryl be talking to about a package? And was she talking about Betty? She had a photoshoot tomorrow so she wouldn’t be at home. Her heart rate picks up at what she’s implying about one of her closest friends, but she can’t help it. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite dramatic scene queen.” 

“What?” 

Cheryl walks over to her desk and tosses a few papers at her. They’re print out articles of Betty and Veronica’s fight yesterday. All of the headlines say more or less the same thing; Iconic Duo Fall Out. It hurts to read, but mainly it hurts because the look on Veronica’s face is one of pure anger and disgust. Her best friend had never looked at her like that before and now that she had, it was everywhere for the world to see. She never wanted to believe that something like this would happen between them, but it did. It also hadn’t helped that Veronica hadn’t answered any of her calls or texts. Was she really that upset over it?

“Can I just say how glad I am that she’s finally out of your life?” Cheryl says nonchalantly as she goes to sit behind her desk. “She always was a bit of a stuck up bitch and she was a bad influence.”

Betty bites at her tongue, forcing herself not to snap. 

“She’s not out of my life, Cher. We just got in a fight.”

Cheryl looks up at her with calculating eyes and then tilts her head in consideration. 

“Pity,” the redhead sighs. “You’d be much better off without her.”

It’s a weird thing to say and Cheryl says it with absolutely no emotion whatsoever. It leaves a cold feeling in Betty’s stomach. 

“Anyway,” Cheryl says with a smile, switching moods almost immediately. “Let’s go over your agenda.”

Suddenly Betty wishes she could be anywhere but here.

 

She leaves Cheryl’s two hours later. The sun is already setting and she would call Jughead to come pick her up, but she left her phone back at the apartment by accident. 

She sighs as she realizes that she’s going to need to get a taxi. Just as she’s about to try to hail one down, a police cruiser stops in front of her and rolls down the window. 

“Miss Cooper?” A voice calls out from the vehicle. She leans down and smiles when she sees that it’s Officer Matthews. 

“Hi, Officer Matthews!” 

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” He asks. “I can take you you wherever you need to go.” 

Betty bites at her lip in consideration. Officer Matthews has been incredibly helpful throughout the last few months and he’s so kind, but she doesn’t really know him all that well. 

“I don’t want to bother you like that,” she tells him. 

“Nonsense! Come on. It’s better than having you out here by yourself when you know that’s the last thing you need to be doing.” He gives her a pointed look and she knows he’s right. With a sigh, she opens up the passenger door and climbs into the cruiser. 

“Thank you so much,” she tells him as she buckles in. “I really wasn’t looking forward to walking.”

“No problem! It’s my duty to make sure you feel safe at all times. And call me Chris. Officer Matthews sounds so formal,” he smiles at her and she notices for the first time how white and perfect his teeth seem to be. Honestly, Officer Matthews, or Chris, seemed more like a model and less like a cop. She wonders briefly if he’d ever thought of picking up the profession. “So what are you doing down here?” 

“Going over some stuff for work,” she answers as she takes her chapstick out of her purse and applies it to her lips. “Boring stuff like that.” 

He nods. “How’s everything going? You been okay?”

“Yeah,” Betty shrugs. “About as good as I can be.” 

“Nothing new with your… admirer?” 

Betty snorts at his choice of words. She doesn’t know that she’d call him an admirer, but whatever works. 

“No,” she answers simply.

“Good. Well, if you’re ever feeling unsteady or like you’re in danger then feel free to ask for me at the office and I’ll be there before you know it.” 

Betty just nods, tired of the conversation. She didn’t get into the car to talk about things that she’d rather forget. The rest of the car is full of an awkward silence. She probably came off as rude earlier, but she can’t really find it in herself to care. After the weird conversation with Cheryl, she doesn’t really have time to be making weird, small conversation with people. 

When they finally arrive to her apartment complex, she’d confused to see about three police cruisers in front of the building.

“What the hell?” She whispers to herself. She turns to Officer M-- _Chris_ to see if he knows what’s going on. His face is unreadable as he stares at the scene before them. 

“I’m going up with you,” he tells her as he unbuckles his seatbelt. She wants to say that it’s unnecessary but she knows that it’d probably be a lie. 

The two of them make their way up to her apartment and she doesn’t feel as shocked as she should when she sees the cops standing outside of her door. She doesn’t know why they’d be there, but her heart drops as she realizes the most obvious reason. 

“Jughead?” She calls out. The cops turn and look at her, but she ignores them as she runs past them and into the apartment. “Jughead!” She looks around for him, frantic, and panics when she doesn’t see him anywhere. Her mind immediately goes to the worst option and her eyes begin to water. Just as she’s about to start screaming, Jughead appears from his bedroom. 

Betty doesn’t waste any time as she runs towards him and wraps her arms around him. “Jughead, what’s going on? Why are the cops here? Are you okay?” 

Jughead looks completely broken as he stares at Betty. His eyes look a bit red and he opens his mouth twice, words failing him each time. 

“Miss Cooper?” A deep voice calls from behind her. She turns around, heart racing, and faces an older looking man. “Were you with Veronica Lodge yesterday afternoon?”

“Yes?” Betty answers, making it seem more like a question instead of an answer. 

“I’m going to need you to come downtown with me,” he tells her, face hard. 

“What’s going on?” She asks in a panic. “What’s wrong with Veronica?” 

“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” the officer tells her as he hands her a plastic bag marked as ‘evidence’. Betty takes it with shaky hands and closes her eyes tightly before opening them again and looks at what’s inside the bag. 

It’s a simple, lone polaroid. It’s just like every other polaroid she’s ever received, but this one breaks her in a way none of the other’s ever did.

The polaroid is of Veronica.

She’s laying face down on the white rug that’s in her living room in a puddle of blood. 

_She didn’t trust you… looks like she was a bad friend. I did you a favor. I’m not afraid to kill and your pretty little boyfriend’s next._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and come talk to me on [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com).


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry... 
> 
> Thank you to my girl Ten for always giving me the sweetest, evilest ideas ever and for reading over this trash. *DJ Kahled voice* I appreciate you.

Betty spends five hours in the police department. She’s questioned by several different detectives, because now she’s front and center in the murder investigation of Veronica Lodge. 

She’s asked, right up front, if she had any motive to kill Veronica after their very public fight. At first it had been a complete insult to her and she had yelled and cried as they accused her of killing her best friend in cold blood. Then, when she calmed down, she began to answer their questions in a cold, calculated voice. She told them the entire truth, about her stalker and everything, and now they were one step closer to finding the killer. At least that’s what they said. She knew they were full of shit. They weren’t going to find Veronica’s killer. They hadn’t been able to find Betty’s stalker this entire time and it was the same person after all. She wonders if they ever even took her case serious or if it only now phased them because there was a death. 

The detectives look at her throughout the interviews with gazes like they don’t know whether they should feel bad for her or not. Betty doesn’t want them to feel sorry for her; not anymore. This is all her fault. Veronica is dead because of her. If she hadn’t walked away from her, or if she had followed her into the cab, or called her a little earlier, or gone over to check on her when she didn’t answer any of Betty’s calls; if she had done any of that then maybe Veronica would still be alive, but she didn’t. She didn’t do anything and now Veronica’s blood was on her hands.

“Are you ready to go home?” 

She’s only half startled by Jughead’s steady voice and the hand he places on her shoulder. She’s currently seated on a chair outside of Officer Ruiz’s office, a pudgy man with a beard that reminds her of a grizzly bear. 

“They’re releasing you,” Jughead tells her, taking in her questioning look. “They’ll call you if they need anything else from you, but they don’t have any reason to hold you anymore.” 

Betty nods and stands up. Jughead immediately wraps his jacket around her shoulders as he leads her out of the station’s lobby. He keeps a protective hold on her, like he dares anyone to come up to her and Betty is thankful for it.

“There’s a crowd outside,” he warns her. “There wasn’t anything we could do about it. Just ignore them.” It’s not a comforting sentence and she almost wishes she could stay inside of the police department all night. She’s not ready to face the world. She doesn’t know if she ever will be again. 

“Betty!” She whirls around at her name being called and sees Office _Chris_ Matthews walking towards her, a card in his hand. “This is my personal number,” he tells her as he gives her the card. “I want you to call me if you ever feel like you’re not safe or if you feel like you’re around someone you can’t trust. Send me a text, call, whatever. I don’t care what time it is.” 

He’s so kind to her. He’s always been so kind to her and it makes her almost want to cry. She needs someone to yell at her right now, to tell her all the things that she’s currently thinking about herself. 

“Thanks,” is all she says. He takes a step towards her and holds his hand out like he wants to touch her, but Jughead yanks her back and away from his grip. Officer Matthews looks at him in shock but Betty doesn’t even question it at this point. 

“I’m here for you whenever you need me,” he tells her but his eyes are hard and he’s looking at Jughead instead of Betty. “Be careful who you trust.” He stares at Jughead for a beat longer before giving her a nod and leaving. She looks down at his card in her hand and flips it over before tucking it into the back of her pocket.

“You’re really going to keep that?” Jughead asks. His voice is strained, like he wants to say something else but he’s holding back. 

She just shrugs. “It can’t hurt.” 

Jughead doesn’t say anything back. He just leads her to the front entrance of the building. She can already see everyone with their cameras and recorders and her stomach clenches at the sight. Jughead must see the way her face completely changes because he holds her closer to him. 

“Just ignore them,” he tells her again. “I’m right here with you.” The words should make her feel a sense of protection or ease, but they don’t. They’re just words.

As soon as they step outside, the cameras flash at her and the questions begin. 

_“Betty, how long have you had a stalker?”_

_“Is it an ex boyfriend?”_

_“Is this all an elaborate PR stunt gone wrong?”_

_“Did you kill Veronica Lodge?”_

The last one startles her and she stops in her tracks before Jughead tugs her along and urges her to sit in the back of the car. The words echo back in her head. This is what people will think of her from now on until the real killer is found. They’re going to think that Betty killed Veronica all because of a stupid fight they had outside of a Whole Foods Market. It doesn’t matter that statements have already been released saying otherwise. People need someone to blame and right now Betty is all they have. 

Cheryl’s in the car and Jughead goes to sit up front next to James. James just sends her a pitiful look through the mirror and Betty looks away. She doesn’t want anyone’s pity anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” is all Cheryl says. 

“You hated Veronica,” Betty tells her, voice monotone as she stares out of the window at all the reporters. “You’re not sorry.” 

“I might not have liked her, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to die,” Cheryl says and she sounds insulted that Betty would even suggest something like that. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this. No one should have to go through this, but especially not you.” 

“Is there a reason you’re here?” She sighs out, finally looking over at Cheryl. The redhead looks upset at her question and Betty _almost_ feels bad. She doesn’t want to be mean to Cheryl, the last friend she really has, but she doesn’t feel like faking her feelings right now. And truth be told, when she looks at Cheryl all she can think of is how her agent had told her that she was glad Veronica was finally out of her life. It’s like she knew what was going to happen. Betty shakes the thought away as soon as it enters her head. She can’t think that way about Cheryl. Cheryl hasn’t done anything wrong. She just wants someone to blame. _Right?_

Cheryl pulls out a box from the bottom of the car floor and hands it over to Betty. “They were for the Golden Globes next month but you don’t have to go anymore. No one is expecting you to.” 

Betty pulls the top off of the box and looks inside of it. The pair of Ralph and Russo shoes she’d been pining after for months are staring right back at her. She reaches out and touches the rose gold leaves on the pumps, enamored by the beauty of them. 

“I got them for you as a present,” Cheryl says a bit shyly. “You’d been saying how much you wanted them and well, you really deserve them. You’ve been through a lot, and I know a pair of shoes can’t fix your problems but retail therapy helps sometimes. You can just save them for whenever you decide to step back out again.” 

The Golden Globes are a little over a month away. Do people really expect her to be hiding out even then? Probably so. Everyone’s probably expecting sensitive Betty Cooper to completely give up and shut down after everything she’s been through, but she’s thinking the exact opposite. 

If the cops won’t do anything about it then she’s going to find out who this person is on her own. She’s tired of letting everyone else deal with her problems. She’ll find whoever’s doing this and she’ll kill them herself. Not for her, but for Veronica. 

 

There’s a funeral, close family and friends only. Really it’s only Veronica’s parents, Betty, and Archie plus a few other family members. Veronica’s mother is sobbing so loudly that Betty has to scream in her head just to drown out the noises. Mr. Lodge stays stoic and completely still. Veronica had been his baby girl, his entire world. Veronica was such a daddy’s girl, it makes perfect sense for this to hit him harder than anyone, but Betty doesn’t think he’s truly processed it yet. 

And Archie. 

Archie looks so lost, so broken, and so alone. Halfway during the funeral, he starts crying silently, and Betty walks over to him and intertwines their fingers together as she holds his hand. He doesn’t look at her, he doesn’t even acknowledge any of it until finally he squeezes her hand back tightly.

She gives her condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Lodge who both thank her for being a good friend to Veronica. It’s almost as though they’re unaware of the fight, as though they don’t know. She wonders if telling them is the right thing to do. She wants to tell them not to thank her, she doesn’t deserve it. Because of her Veronica is dead. Veronica is six feet in the ground all because she didn’t follow her after their fight. She didn’t take care of Veronica the way a friend should.

She sits in front of the newly dug grave for a long time after that. There are things she wants to say, but she can’t find the words. 

“No one blames you,” a voice says gently from behind her. She turns around and sees Archie standing with his hands in his coat. He looks so small for someone who had always seemed a bit larger than life. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t follow her,” Betty whispers as she touches the ground beneath her. It’s a lump of dirt. This is all Veronica is now; a lump of cold dirt. “The last things we said to each other…”

“She loved you,” Archie says. “She loved you so much. She was worried about you and you know how she got when she worried.” He laughs softly, but Betty can’t laugh because he’s saying everything in the past tense and she doesn’t know how to handle any of that. “I talked to her that night. I guess it must have been before… everything, but she told me she was worried you were going to hate her for all the things she said. I told her she just needed to call you and apologize and you’d understand. She said she’d call you in the morning.”

Betty closes her eyes tightly as a lone tear falls from them. If she had just gone to Veronica’s house when she didn’t answer the phone then she might still be alive right now. Betty could have prevented all of this and she didn’t. Veronica’s blood was on her hands and nothing anyone said could change that. She didn’t do the killing but indirectly she had a hand in it, and Betty couldn’t fathom how she’d live with that.

“We’ll find out who’s doing all this,” Archie promises as he places a hand on Betty’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself.” And then he’s gone and Betty’s all alone. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispers to the grave, tears making their way down her cheeks and falling onto the cold dirt. “I’m so sorry.” 

She doesn’t know why she apologizes. It doesn’t change a damn thing. 

 

She’s sitting with Jughead on their couch, watching a game show, when she gets a call. 

“Hello?” 

_“May I speak with Elizabeth Cooper?”_

“Speaking.” Jughead gives her a questioning glance, but she just stands up and walks over to the kitchen. “How may I help you?”

 _“Hello, Miss Cooper. This is Detective Reyes.”_ She remembers him. He had been a bit of a hardass while grilling her with questions, but she could respect that. _“We usually don’t do this, but since this case connects to you as well, I’ve been given the okay to fill you in.”_

Her heart begins to slam against her chest as she thinks about what he could possibly have to tell her. 

_“A piece of hair was left at the crime scene and it doesn’t match Miss Lodge’s DNA. We ran it through the system and came up with a match for a kid who was arrested whenever he was seventeen, some street fighter, gang banger nonsense. We can’t release his name to you due to him being a minor at the time, but he’s our first stop._

“What color was it?” She asks, needing to know. It doesn’t matter that they might have the killer in their database, she still needs to know. 

_“A dark brown, Miss Cooper. It was curled too so we’re looking at someone with dark, nearly black curly hair now. That’s really all I can tell you at this moment.”_

It’s a start. After months and months of chasing absolutely no one, they now have a lead. It’s more than she could have ever dreamt of. The idea that they might have the killer locked up soon is too much for her to imagine. It’s also a little too easy. 

“Thank you, Detective Reyes.” 

_“We’ll let you know when we bring him in,”_ he says before hanging up. 

She pulls the phone away from her ear and stares down at it for a good while. It’s a big city they all live in. There are four million people in Los Angeles alone and she knows that over half of those people fit the description that she now has. She wonders who the person in their database is and why he's doing all of this. 

“Betty?” Jughead calls out. She turns around and looks at him. “What happened?” He pulls on the dark curl that’s always falling into his eyes. Betty tilts her head at him, studying his movements, before answering. 

“They found a piece of hair at the crime scene,” she tells him. “A piece of black, curly hair.” 

“Do they know who it belongs to?” He asks, as he stands up from the couch and walks over to her. 

“Yes,” she says, not believing the words that are coming out of her mouth. “They think they do, but even if it’s a mix up… it’s all I need.” 

“All you need?” He scoffs. “Betty, you can’t go after this person. You’re already in enough danger. We know this stalker is capable of murder, which means you could be next! You need to leave this to the professionals.” 

“Yeah?” She asks, sarcastically. “Because they’ve been doing such a good job, right? If I leave it to the professionals then someone else ends up dead. Me, you, Cheryl, the next person who looks at me ugly; it doesn’t matter. I won’t have another person’s blood on my hands.” 

“So what? You’re just going to go out and find this person for yourself and kill them?”

“If I have to,” she says as she turns away from him. She doesn’t know where she’s going, but she can’t look at him and his condescending face right now.

“Betty, come on,” he reaches out and grabs her forearm. “You’re being irrational. You’re hurt and you don’t know how to handle it. You can talk to someone, you can talk to _me_. We can go back to Riverdale like you wanted. Cheryl will let you.”

“I don’t want to go back to Riverdale!” She yells at him. “I don’t want to talk to anyone. I talked to all of you in the past and where did that get me? Nowhere. Talking to people doesn’t help. I’m not running away from this person anymore. If they want me then they can come and get me.” 

He looks at her, torn but Betty doesn’t care. She means everything she is saying right now. 

“You can go,” she tells him. She watches as his eyes widen in shock and then narrow in confusion. She didn’t mean for it to come out so harshly, but it’s something she’s been thinking ever since Veronica was killed. She can’t have anyone else in her life get hurt and that includes Jughead. 

“What?” 

“I’m firing you,” she says with absolutely no emotion in her voice. “I don’t need you anymore.”

“Fuck that!” He yells at her, eyes ablaze. “You need me now more than ever!” She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t move. Jughead grows angier. “You can’t fire me. Even if you wanted to, I’m your boyfriend, Betty! I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t need you anymore,” she says, repeating the words again. They hurt more than anything she’s ever said before. This hurts more than when Jughead had turned her down the first time. Her heart is breaking inside of her chest, it’s the first real emotion she feels since finding about Veronica and it sucks, but it has to happen. She’s an omen of the worst kind. 

She forces herself to stay calm and stoic as she looks at the way Jughead’s face falls as he begins to let go of his anger.

“What are you saying right now?” He asks, voice losing the fire it had held just seconds before. 

“You need to leave.” 

“Don’t do this,” he begs her, eyes watering. She hates herself for doing this to him, but she has to. She _needs_ to. “I’m here for you, let me be here for you, Betty.” He tries to grab ahold of her hand, but she tears it away from him. 

“You can’t fire me,” he tells her, but he doesn’t sound so sure anymore. “Cheryl’s the only one who can do that.” 

“I know,” Betty says. “She just did.” She had talked it over with Cheryl earlier and while the redhead hadn’t understood Betty’s reasoning, she agreed. Betty knew she only agreed because she wasn’t about to tell her no after everything she had been through lately, but it didn’t matter. She’d take what she could get. 

“Betty,” he tries once more, voice just as broken. 

“I’m not trying to break up with you,” Betty tells him. “I don’t want this to be the end for us, but I need you to understand where I’m coming from right now. I need to do this by myself. I don’t want you putting yourself on the line for me, not anymore.” 

“If something were to happen to you and I didn’t do anything to stop it, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself!”

“I need you to trust me,” she says as she puts a hand on his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch. A part of her realizes that this is the most vulnerable he’s ever been with her and she wishes that it could be under different circumstances. 

“So what,” Jughead says with an uneasy laugh, “we’re on a break or something?” 

Betty smiles. “I need you to be my boyfriend, not my bodyguard. If you want to help, be the kind of person I need right now.” 

She knows it’s a lot to ask from him. She can see it in the way he looks at her, completely torn. Does he even know how to not be her bodyguard? She doesn’t know, but they can work at it together. 

“I never cared about the paycheck,” Jughead says randomly. “You know that, right? It was never about the money for me.” The conversation with Veronica comes running back to her. “It’s always been about you.” 

“Then let me do this by myself.” 

Jughead seems to be thinking it over before he finally nods. 

It shouldn’t feel like she’s finally free, but for some reason it does. She doesn’t have anyone holding her back anymore and with that in mind, she turns away from Jughead and walks out of the apartment; one destination in her mind. 

 

She turns off her phone as soon as she leaves. She doesn’t need anyone trying to get ahold of her right now. She’s finally in the mindspace she needs to be in and she can’t risk anything pulling her out of it. 

She’s dropped off in front of the building and takes a deep breath, feeling nervous for some reason. She knows what she’s doing could definitely be marked as stupid, but she doesn’t care. She needs to do this. Jughead had refused to teach her how to do this, so she has to go to someone who will help her out. 

Out of the corner of her eye she sees someone take a picture of her and she has to refrain from smiling. It’s just what she had wanted. 

She enters the building and walks up to the front desk. The man standing behind the counter widens his eyes at her and she can tell that he recognizes her. 

“I need something small but powerful,” she tells him. “And I need you to teach me how to shoot it.” 

 

She leaves the shooting range with a brand new Desert Eagle and a sense of power. She knows she’ll have to hide the gun from Jughead; he won’t be okay with any of this. She needs to prove that she can take care of herself and that she doesn’t need to rely on others, so she’ll keep it from him until she knows he won’t freak out over it. 

When she gets back to the apartment, Jughead’s locked up in his room and she doesn’t feel like bothering him so she puts the gun away in her bedroom and then goes to the kitchen to find something to eat. She settles on making herself a bowl of fruit and is in the middle of cutting up a pineapple, whenever there’s a knock on her door. 

She answers it and is surprised to see Officer Ruiz and another cop standing in front of her. 

“Good evening, Miss Cooper,” Officer Ruiz nods to her. “Is Forsythe Jones in the vicinity?” 

Betty looks at him in confusion, not understanding what he needs with Jughead, but she nods either way. At that exact moment, Jughead comes out of his room, hair bushy and eyes lidded. He must have been asleep. 

He pauses as he takes in the sight before him and gives Betty a confused look. 

“Officers,” he greets, uneasy, “how can we help you?”

Before she even knows what’s going on, Officer Ruiz nods to the younger cop by his side and the man walks over to Jughead and clasps his hand around his arm. 

“Forsythe Jones, you’re under arrest for the murder of Veronica Lodge.” 

“What?” Jughead yells out as the cop reads him his rights. He looks at Betty, eyes crazed, and Betty just stares back at him dumbfounded. “I didn’t murder her! I didn’t do that!” He tries to tear his arm out of the cop’s grip, but it’s no use. 

Betty turns to Officer Ruiz in disbelief and he gives her a pitiful look. 

“He was matched to the hair we found at the crime scene,” he tells her regretfully. 

She shakes her head slowly. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way. That doesn’t even make sense. No… She looks over to Jughead who is still yelling at the cop. She looks at his hair; the lone curl of his falling into his eye as he thrashes around. 

“Betty,” he yells out, breaking her out of her trance. “Betty, I didn’t do this! You know I wouldn’t do this. You know me!” 

She locks eyes with him, but doesn’t say anything. He’s pleading with her, practically begging her to listen to him and she can’t. 

“Why was he arrested before?” She asks Officer Ruiz even as she stares at Jughead. He gives her a broken look and shakes his head, begging her not to press the issue, but she has to know. If it was for theft or breaking and entering, then it doesn’t matter. Jughead wouldn’t do this. He couldn’t have done this. 

“Aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.” 

All of her breath leaves her and she watches in horror as Jughead’s dragged from the apartment and this time when he tries to talk to her, she turns around and shuts the door in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading (don't kill me) and feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com). :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my Main Bitch™️ Ten for making this chapter better than I could have ever imagined. 
> 
> GUYS! We are in our last chapters. I suspect about three more at the most plus a little epilogue. So sit back and enjoy because it's about to get good. :)

Betty paces the room for a good ten minutes after Jughead’s taken away. She knows only a few things. Whether she likes it or not, it’s confirmed that Jughead Jones does in fact have a criminal record. She knows it’s for the worst kind of assault charge. She knows that a piece of Jughead’s hair was found at the scene of the crime. 

She also knows that Jughead was with her the entire night that Veronica was supposedly killed. She knows that he had talked her into trying to call Veronica; why would he do that if he was just going to kill her? It didn’t make sense. For everything that he might have been in the past, Jughead cared about her now. She knew this. 

She also knew that Jughead had to have been framed. There’s no way he did any of this, even if he was that kind of person in the past he just couldn’t be now. She knows that for a fact. She had been shocked at first when Officer Ruiz had told her about his past offence, but she knew better now. Jughead didn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this to her; to _Veronica_. 

She still had a lot of unanswered questions, things she didn’t understand, but it didn’t matter because she knew she needed to get down to the station to try and fix things. Jughead had an alibi. If she had just gotten out of her shocked trance a few minutes earlier, she could have stood up for him. She feels terrible as she remembers the way he had looked at her as he had been dragged from the apartment; the look of pleading and desperation then absolute betrayal. Jughead had always been there for her, had always had her back, and when he needed her the most, she had let him down. But Betty knows she can fix this, and she will. She owes him at least that much.

 

The station is actually quite deserted when she finally gets there. There aren’t any reporters hanging outside so she know that the news about Veronica’s alleged killer being found must not be out yet. It’s nowhere near as chaotic as it had been whenever she’d been held for questioning and she’s thankful for small miracles. 

She walks inside of the building and looks around. She doesn’t see Jughead anywhere so she knows that he’s probably being questioned right now. She hopes he lawyers up. His words can be twisted and turned until it’s what the detectives want to hear and she can’t deal with that. She can’t deal with the aftermath of what will come from all of that.

She walks to the back of the building where she knows Officer Ruiz’s office is. She’s surprised to see that he’s sitting inside of it all alone, head in his hands. She knocks on the door before letting herself in. 

“Miss Cooper?” He asks as looks up, startled by her appearance. “What are you doing here?” 

“I need to talk to you.” She shuts the door behind herself and sits in the chair in front of his desk. “There’s no way that Forsythe killed Veronica. He was with me that entire night.” 

Officer Ruiz sighs. “Miss Cooper, I understand not wanting to believe that he could do something like this. He was your bodyguard, a trusted man, but the evidence is right there.” 

“We live together, I would have known if he had snuck out to go kill my best friend.” She says a bit louder now, growing impatient. 

“He could have snuck out whenever you were asleep. It’s not that hard to do.” 

Her face burns red as she thinks about what to tell him next. If she comes clean to him about their relationship, it could save Jughead’s name and his life. In the end, it’s not a hard decision to make.

“We fell asleep together that night in the same bed,” she hisses. “So no, he couldn’t have just snuck out. Especially since I fell asleep and woke up on top of him. I’m not a heavy sleeper, Officer Ruiz. I think you can guess why. He didn’t sneak out and he didn’t kill Veronica.” 

Officer Ruiz looks just as mortified as she feels, but she sees the way he seems to speculate over her words, trying to decide what to believe. 

“You’re his alibi then?” He asks her. “Because if this comes to light and if we can’t prove he isn’t innocent, you’ll have to testify for him in court. Can you be completely sure that you can do that? People won’t believe you. They’ll think you had something to do with the murder as well. I’ve seen cases like this before, Miss Cooper. It’s not easy stuff.” 

“It won’t come to that,” she tells him. “He is innocent and you’ll see soon enough.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“The person who killed Veronica is the same person who's been stalking _me_ for the past few months. Recently they were able to get onto my apartment balcony and take pictures of Jughead and I sleeping together. If they could do that, then I have no doubt in my mind they’d be able to get a strand of his hair and leave it at the crime scene. That’s all that was found, right? There was no blood or fingerprints? Not even skin under Veronica’s fingertips from fighting back?” 

The officer is silent for a minute.

“That’s what I thought.”

Officer Ruiz frowns, taking it all in. “We still have to keep him for questioning,” he tells her. “If what you’re saying is true, then he’s a target as well. He’s a big enough target that the killer wants him behind bars.” He pauses and leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “How well do you know Mr. Jones?” 

It’s an odd question, but she answers it anyway. “Well enough. He wouldn’t do this.” 

“Say he didn’t do it, fine. But he does have a criminal record. The assault charge? That’s serious stuff. You didn’t seem to know anything about it, so again I ask; how well do you know him?” 

The assault charge. It had been on her mind since Officer Ruiz had mentioned it earlier. What had happened that Jughead would go after someone with a deadly weapon? Was it a gun or a knife or something else? What could anger him that badly? She’d seen the way his temper would often act up and how he’d lash out, the incident with Chuck was a prime example of it, but he always seemed to pull himself out of whatever rage he was flying into. He had impeccable self control.

“I know him well enough that if there’s an assault charge on his record, it’s for a reason. He wouldn’t do something like that just for the hell of it. He is a good person,” she says the words like she’s begging him to believe her and she is. She needs him to believe her. 

“We still need to keep him in for questioning, that’s just procedure.” He sighs. “I’m sorry.” 

Betty deflates. Jughead doesn’t deserve to be behind bars or even in this place at all. She remembers how he had held her as he led her out of the station the other day and she feels terrible knowing that she won’t be able to offer the same thing for him. 

“Tell you what,” Officer Ruiz says as he stands up, “I’m not supposed to do this, but I’ll let you talk to him for a few minutes. He needs to know that he has someone on his side right now.” 

Betty smiles in relief. “Thank you.” She just needs to apologize to Jughead. She needs him to know that she doesn’t believe he could be capable of this. 

She follows Officer Ruiz to the back of the station, to an empty hallway that looks all too familiar to her. Once they get in front of the room that’s holding Jughead, Officer Ruiz opens the door for her and lets her inside. 

“Ten minutes,” he reminds her before closing the door behind himself. 

Jughead doesn’t even look up at her entrance. He’s sitting with his hands clasped together on the table. They’re in handcuffs and Betty’s heart breaks at the sight. His head is down and his hair is falling into his face, not allowing her to see it. He looks so small and defeated right now. She wonders how she could have just let this happen to him. 

She walks over to the metal chair in front of him and sits down on it. It’s uncomfortable and she wonders how long Jughead’s had to sit it in by himself in this cold room, as he felt like the entire world was against him. 

“Hey,” she says softly as she reaches forward and tries to touch his hand with her own. She’s hurt but not surprised whenever he yanks his hands away from her grasp. “Juggie,” she whispers, brokenly, at a loss. 

“You think I did it,” he states. His voice is low and for a moment it doesn’t even sound like his own. “You _really_ think I did it; that I could even do something like that. You think I killed her.” 

“No, I don’t!” She rushes out. “I don’t think that, that’s why I’m here.” 

“The way you looked at me…” 

“Jughead, please,” she begs him. “Please look at me.”

He does and she almost wishes he hadn’t. His eyes are bloodshot and she wonders if he’d been crying. He looks so broken down and beaten and he’s only been in here for an hour at the most. It hurts to see him like this and she can’t even begin to imagine how he must feel right now. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, meaning it. “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you. I was just so shocked after what Officer Ruiz said and I know that’s not a good reason, but I need you to know that I do believe you.” 

“It was for my sister,” he says after a beat, clearing his voice and finally looking her in the eye. “The gang I was in, I joined it for my sister. It was the only way I could offer her protection. My mom was dead and my dad was an alcoholic deadbeat. I did things like petty theft and drug deals to make money to support us. I had to keep her _alive_ , Betty. I don’t regret anything I did, but I didn’t want you to know.” He looks embarrassed by everything and Betty reaches out and places her hand over his. She’s relieved when he doesn’t pull away this time. 

“Don’t be embarrassed about that,” she tells him. He flips his hand over and squeezes hers back. “I’m not going to judge you for something you did when you were younger and fighting to give your sister food and shelter. I’d never do that.” 

“When she was in high school, some guy at a party got her drunk; really drunk. He was the kind of guy who had no business being at a highschool party and he shouldn’t have been anywhere near my sister. I wasn’t at the party, but one of my guys called me and told me that someone had taken my sister into a room and locked the door and that they wouldn’t open it.” The hand that isn’t holding Betty’s clenches tightly into a fist. “I don’t remember driving to the party or anything like that. I just remember standing over the guy, looking at his bloody face while I held a tire iron in my hand.”

Betty’s eyes widen and for the first time since she’s known him, she’s scared of Jughead. She isn’t scared in this moment or because she thinks he’ll ever hurt her, she’s scared because she knows now that he’s probably capable of more than she ever expected. 

“Was she okay?” She asks, fearing for the worst. 

“She was fine. He didn’t get to do anything to her. In the end, he got away free because his dad was the mayor and his mom was some big shot lawyer. They made it out like I was some kind of psychopath and they completely left out the part about him trying to force himself onto my sister.” 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, squeezing his hand. “You didn’t deserve that and neither did she.”

“It was stupid. I could have killed him.” 

“Maybe you should have.” Jughead looks at Betty in surprise, not quite believing the words she’s just said. 

“They have to keep me, don’t they?” He asks, changing the subject. Betty just nods sadly. “I’ll be okay,” he reassures her. “I’m worried about you, though.” 

“Officer Ruiz thinks the stalker sees you as a threat. He’ll probably do anything to keep you in here for as long as he can.” 

“Can you stay with someone? Or go home to Riverdale? If I’m going to be in here for a while then I don’t want you to be by yourself.” 

“You won’t be in here for long. They’ll see that you’re innocent.” 

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he says with a sad smile. “As long as they have someone they can pin the murder on, they’re not letting me go. I’m the only solution they have to a terrible problem. I’m not leaving here anytime soon. You’re not stupid, Betty. You know that.” 

“That’s not fair,” Betty says, voice shaky as her eyes start to water. She misses Jughead already. He’s sitting right in front of her and she misses him and it hurts like hell. She hadn’t realized just what this would mean for them, but now as she looks at him in his handcuffs and face sullen, she doesn’t think she can walk out of here without him. 

“This isn’t forever,” he promises her. “I need you to be strong and be safe.” 

She’s fully crying now as she nods at his words. There’s a knock on the door and Officer Ruiz pokes his head in. 

“Time’s up,” he tells them. 

“I’ll be back,” Betty tells Jughead as she squeezes his hand tightly. “Don’t let them break you down. You didn’t hurt anyone.” 

Jughead smiles at her but it looks forced. She stands up and leans over the table to place a kiss on his lips. It’s wet and salty from her tears and it’s not enough to lift either of their spirits. She’s leaving Jughead and she doesn’t know how long it’ll be before she can see him again. 

“Stay safe,” he tells her once more when she pulls away. She nods and gives him one last look before walking out of the room. 

“Sorry, kid,” Officer Ruiz tells her and it sounds like he really is sorry. Before she can answer him back, a voice that she’s starting to recognize all too well echos off the hallway walls. 

“Betty?” Chris Matthews walks towards her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looks different to her when he’s not in uniform. “What are you doing here?” 

“Nothing,” she says, not wanting to talk about it. 

Chris looks between her and Officer Ruiz. “Am I missing something?” 

“We have a suspect in custody for the murder of Veronica Lodge,” Officer Ruiz fills him in. “It’s Miss Cooper’s bodyguard.” 

Chris’ eyes widen and he looks at her in complete shock. 

“They have the wrong guy,” she tells him, hoping he’ll believe her. Chris just nods slowly, probably still a bit thrown off by the whole thing. 

“I’m about to take my break,” he tells her, “wanna talk about it?” 

Usually she’d say no, but right now she doesn’t want to be alone. Jughead had told her to stay safe and what better way to stay safe than to hang out with a police officer? Chris had been nothing but nice to her and right now she needed someone nice. And he’s armed, which puts her a bit at ease.

“Sure,” she tells him. “That’d be nice.” 

 

Chris takes her to a small deli that’s right around the corner of the police station. She just ordered a cup of soup but hardly touches it, her appetite nearly nonexistent after everything that had happened at the station with Jughead. Her mind is still whirling with the story he told her. Instead of feeling scared of him, or disgust at his past actions, she feels a sense of admiration. Jughead is strong, he’s the kind of person she always wanted to be like when she was growing up. She wishes that she had known him when he was younger. She wishes she could have been there for him. 

“He’s going to be okay,” Chris tells her, noticing that she isn’t eating. “I believe you. I believe that he’s innocent. As long as everything checks out, he’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about him, Betty.” 

“I’m just scared,” she finally admits. “What if this gets out? What will it do to him as a person? How can someone be accused of something so terrible and still be the same afterward?” 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But Forsythe seems like a good man.” It’s nice to hear him say that. Jughead had always been a little cold towards Chris, but Betty was glad to see that Chris didn’t harbor the same feelings. “And he has you as a support system.” He smiles at Betty and she returns it. It’s kind of like what Officer Ruiz had told her. She knew that she wasn’t really doing anything at all for Jughead, but if she could offer some support to him then that was a start. 

“I just hope that this doesn’t change him.” 

“It might,” Chris tells her as he locks his eyes with her own, “but who says that’s a bad thing? There’s nothing wrong with change, especially in people like him.” 

Her head snaps up. _What do you mean ‘like him’?_ She wants to ask, but no words come out. Instead, Betty bites at her lip and looks down at her soup. _Who says it would ever be a good thing?_

 

She goes to Cheryl’s after she’s done eating with Chris. 

Cheryl lives in a glass mansion on Sunset Boulevard. It’s the exact kind of place that someone would expect a woman like Cheryl Blossom to live in; extremely extravagant and unbelievably beautiful. Betty used to love it. When she first met Cheryl, before she even became Betty’s formal manager, she would _beg_ the redhead girl to let her throw parties there. Now though it seemed too open to the world. It didn’t feel secure. There was no privacy and it made her uncomfortable. 

“You can take your usual room,” Cheryl tells her, referring to the room that Betty used to use all the time when she would come over. “You should shower and sleep. Are you hungry?” 

Betty shakes her head. “No, I’m just going to shower and go to bed. Thanks for letting me crash here, Cher. You’re the best.”

Cheryl smiles at her. “Of course, Betty. I’d do anything for you, you know that. Get some sleep.” She hugs her and places a kiss onto Betty’s cheek before turning and leaving her alone. 

With Cheryl away from her, the house seems larger than it already is. She looks at all the paintings on the walls that she knows cost an arm and a leg and notices how they’re all dark instead of lively; they don’t brighten the house up, they add a sense of foreboding to it. 

When she gets to her room, she drops her purse onto the bed and makes her way into the restroom. Her eyes have bags under them and she blames all the stress and crying on it. She takes off her clothes and turns the water as hot as it will go before stepping inside. It burns and it’ll probably leave her skin red afterwards, but she doesn’t care. Right now it hurts too good, like it’s the only thing reminding her that all this is real. She stands under the water for a long time, not moving to wash her hair or her body. She just lets the water wash over her until she can’t feel the heat of it any longer. 

She doesn’t get dressed before getting into bed. Cheryl always has an extra set of clothes in her spare bedrooms, but Betty doesn’t even look through the drawers to see her options. Instead she slips underneath the covers and falls asleep before her head even hits the pillow. 

 

She wakes up a little past five in the morning. Her throat is dry and her stomach rumbles out for something to eat. She tosses the covers off of herself and puts on a silk black robe that had been hanging in the closet in the restroom. 

Cheryl has her protective blinds up right now on all the glass windows and it’s the only thing that makes Betty feel somewhat safe as she walks down to the kitchen. 

She gets herself a glass of water and an apple from the fruit basket. A loud giggle comes from the hallway that leads to Cheryl’s bedroom and Betty jumps up at the sound. Against her better judgement, she walks over to the sound and is surprised to see Cheryl’s bedroom light still on. Has Cheryl been up all night long? And who is she with? Cheryl was the type to be in bed by ten o’clock and awake at no later than nine in the morning, so Betty’s surprised to see her up right now. By the sound of it, it seems like she hasn’t slept at all.

The apple falls from her hand accidentally and she curses to herself as the giggles stop and the room gets quiet. Betty presses her ear against the door, trying to see if she can hear what the hell is going on. When it seems like there’s no immediate threat, the giggling starts again and this time it’s followed by a loud moan. Betty jumps away from the door, clearly understanding what’s going on right here. _Cheryl has a booty call over._ Wouldn’t be the first time. Cheryl has the powers of a seductress, she could bed anyone who fit her very specific type. Is booty call even the right word for whatever is going on? It has to be. Betty hadn’t been aware that Cheryl was seeing anyone so it can’t be an actual relationship. 

She walks away from the door and back over to the kitchen. Whoever Cheryl’s having sex with is none of her business. She’s just about to go back to her room to see if she can try to sleep a little more, when there’s a knock at the front door. The house phone that Cheryl has for business purposes rings three times before it’s followed by the sound of Cheryl’s answering machine going off. 

It’s a deep, gruff voice on the line. 

_“Your package is out front.”_ It’s ominous as hell and Betty wonders who would be out delivering packages at this time.

Betty looks towards Cheryl’s room where she can still hear her friend’s moans followed by the grunts of a man. 

She’ll just get the package for Cheryl. Someone could steal it if it stays out there too long; it’s happened before. 

No one is outside whenever she opens the door and she looks down to see a small box. It’s a matte black box that looks way too fancy and way too familiar to her. Before she knows what she’s doing, her hand touches the top of the box and takes off the lid, staring down at the contents inside. 

 

“Shut up!” Cheryl hisses at Reggie. He moans like he’s trying to make a statement. As soon as the words leave her lips, she moans out and Reggie sends her a cocky grin. He might be good in bed, but he was in way over his head. It was why he needed her. They balanced each other out. 

“We can’t have Betty hearing us,” Cheryl reminds him. “She can’t know about us.” 

Reggie rolls his eyes but before he can say anything, there’s a loud crash outside of the bedroom. They look at each other in a moment of shock before they each jump up from the bed. Reggie throws on his sweats and Cheryl tugs on her robe. 

They walk into the living room and Cheryl stops in her tracks as he sees Betty hovering over a broken vase and a black box on the floor. The vase was an antique from Cheryl's grandmother, but that’s not what bothers her. What bothers her is the box that’s been thrown to the floor along with the vase, because she knows exactly where that box came from. She knows exactly what’s inside it, she doesn’t even have to look. Her hand is dripping blood from the cracked vase all over Cheryl’s expensive carpeting, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t even feel the gash, even though it’s bleeding quite profusely now.

Betty looks up at the sound of their footsteps, tears falling from her cheeks as she looks at the redhead in complete despair, feeling both betrayed and afraid. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” Cheryl should be screaming. Her voice should be shrill and terrified. Yet, she’s never sounded more robotic, more emotionless. The voice doesn’t even _sound_ like her.

This was Cheryl. Betty spent her entire career, and even before that relying on her. Being there for each other. Like friends do. That builds a sort of solidarity and trust and she never anticipated for it to hurt _so badly_ now that it was gone.

If Betty had managed to keep her world from falling apart, to keep herself together up until now, she officially gives up. She can’t do this anymore. All of the anger and hurt she had been feeling over the past few months piles up as she looks at the person behind all of it.

“You,” the blonde haired girl whispers out as she looks at Cheryl in disgust. “You did all of this?”

Cheryl shakes her head and moves towards Betty with her hands up, trying to get her to calm down. “Betty, just listen to me, okay? I did this for you--.” 

_“For me?!”_ Betty shrieks out. Before either Cheryl or Reggie can guess what’s going to happen, Betty lunges forward and tackles Cheryl to the ground. “I trusted you! You were my _friend_! How could you do this to me?” She picks up her fist, she doesn’t know if she planned to actually punch Cheryl but it never happens. Reggie picks her up off of the redhead and holds her back in his arms. 

“You need to calm down,” he hisses at Betty. 

“Did you know about this too?” She yells out at him as she wriggles out of his grip. _Oh, God. Are they both going to kill her now?_ “Did you… did you both kill her?” 

They all know who she’s referring to and the room goes completely quiet. 

“Betty,” Cheryl says as she stands up from the floor, voice pleading, “just listen to me.”

Betty just shakes her head as she walks backwards and towards the front door. She’s looking at Cheryl right now and she doesn’t even recognize the girl in front of her. She’s surprised when Reggie doesn’t grab her and stop her from leaving. She takes off running down the driveway. She left her phone and purse in the house and she’s well aware that she’s only in a silk bathrobe right now, but she doesn’t care. She needs to get as far away from Cheryl Blossom and Reggie Mantle as she can and she knows exactly where she’s going. 

 

Jughead Jones stares back at the man in front of him. He’s the first person to come inside of the room all day aside from Betty. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, not sure why this man has any reason to be inside of this room at all; he’s not a detective. 

“I had to come see you,” he says with a sinister smile. “I had to look at you in the face and make sure that you knew I won.” 

Jughead tenses up. He can’t be… No. There’s no way. 

“You,” he whispers out. “You’re the stalker. It was you this _entire_ time. You did all this to her.” 

“You’re right. But who said I’m alone? Guess you really are as dumb as I thought you were,” the man jokes, but Jughead doesn’t laugh. He opens up his mouth, ready to scream, to try to fight this guy, to do _anything_ , but he never gets the chance. He tries to stand up but falls back down inevitably - his hands are still chained to the table.

The man walks behind Jughead and places a rag over his face. He’s never smelled chloroform before and he doesn’t even have time to focus on it or block the chemical from invading all his senses. Before he even realizes what’s happening or the man’s motivation, he’s blacked out and defenseless.

The man stands there and smiles as Jughead goes limp in his hands. He did all of this and the power he feels from all of it courses through his body. 

The door opens up and he doesn’t even turn his head; he already knows who it is. 

“You did well,” a high pitched voice says from the right of him. “One down and one to go.” She walks next to Jughead and pulls a knife out from the large bag she’s carrying with her. She yanks his head back harshly by his hair, exposing his neck to her. She bends down gracefully and places the knife next to his neck, making the tiniest cut on it and watching the blood trickle out of it. Then she throws her bag over to the other man in the room. 

“Take the picture and do it quick. Police stations creep me out.”

He pulls out the polaroid camera from her bag and snaps the picture for her, making sure that her face isn’t in it; just Jughead’s. 

He hands it over to her whenever it develops and she studies it before smiling at him and then places the picture into the matte black box she’d bought just for this occasion; for countless occasions before this one.

“This is the last one,” she tells him, “we don’t need to send anymore after this. Time for the next part of the plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com).


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one night?
> 
> Here's the big reveal guys. ;) 
> 
> As always, Ten is the love of my life and this fic would be nothing without her.

The picture that was inside of the box has burned itself into her head all the way to her apartment; the same box that she’s still carrying in her hand for some unknown reason. It was a picture of Jughead, his neck completely exposed as his eyes were closed. A large knife placed right against his neck; a single, bleeding cut on the otherwise untouched skin. 

It was taken at the police station, clearly, in the same exact room he’d been inside of when she’d last seen him. Who could have possibly gotten access to that room? She realizes that Jughead must have been drugged right before he looked into the eyes of the person who had been tormenting them both. They must have knocked him out somehow. 

The thought is terrifying. She wonders if they still have him. They have to. They wouldn’t just leave him there at the police station, but what do they want with him? What does Jughead have to do with any of this? He was innocent in all of this. 

She’s dropped off in front of her house and she throws the cab driver the Chanel ring that she’d been wearing. She doesn’t have her purse on her and the ring is worth a hundred times more than the ride was, but she couldn’t care less. He takes it graciously, face lighting up with the telltale look people had when recognizing her for her modelling work, but Betty is out of the car before she can listen to any of his praise. 

She would have gone straight to the police station, but she’s still in the silk robe and that’s a bit too much even for her. Besides, she doesn’t feel safe right now and she doesn’t want to be unarmed. She still has her gun underneath her bed and she needs it right now. And there’s only _so long_ before “Betty Cooper, Model Extraordinaire, Has Very Public But Also Very Expected Meltdown” hits the stands, tabloids plastered with her in a silk robe running down the street.

For once, her apartment hallway is empty. It seems like it parallels her entire life right now. 

She has to use the spare key underneath the doorstep and once she’s inside of the apartment, she tiptoes around and does a thorough check to make sure she’s alone. She looks at Jughead’s bedroom door that’s still wide open and the now dry fruit that still sits on the kitchen counter and her heart clenches at the sight. She wishes she could go back in time and spend as much of it as she could have with Jughead before he was taken away. She didn’t know if she’d ever see him again or if he was even alive-- 

_No._. No, she can’t think like that. Jughead is alive and she’s going to find whoever is doing this and kill them herself. She’ll find them even if it kills her.

She closes his bedroom door and then makes her way over to her own room. She throws the robe off herself, not wanting any part of Cheryl on or near her. She throws on the first pair of black jeans she sees and a black long sleeve shirt. She gets her gun from underneath her bed and places it into the back of her jeans like the guy at the shooting range had taught her. She has to be ready for anything and throwing the gun into a bag or something like that would only slow her down. If the situation wasn’t so dire, she’d feel like a badass bitch from the countless movies she’d seen that employed the now tired trope.

After putting on a pair of black boots, she goes into the kitchen where she had thrown the box onto the top of the bar. It sits there, top forgotten, and the picture mocks her. It’s laughing at her. _Look at your pretty boyfriend now. He spent so long protecting you, but I got him. I win._ She can hear the words echoing around in her head. She can hear laughter that doesn’t have a source. With a loud scream, she pulls the gun out of her jeans, turns off the safety, and shoots at the box. The bang is loud as hell and her ears start ringing. She smiles as the adrenaline flows through her entire body. Shooting the gun made her feel better. Is she going insane? She must be. She doesn’t even care.

Before someone comes to her room to check on her, she turns the safety on on the gun and puts it back into her jeans. She walks out of the apartment and makes sure that the door locks behind her. For some reason, it feels like she’s leaving a piece of herself behind. The closing of the door feels so final to her. A part of her, deep down, knows what she’s setting out to do right now. She’s turning in her best friend to the cops and she’s going to find whoever took Jughead and kill them. This is going to be a huge blow to her career, she’s turning in that life. She’s not sure she even wants her career anymore after this. 

The more she thinks about the situation, she realizes that it couldn’t have been Cheryl that had taken Jughead; at least not alone. She had to be working with someone. Reggie? She didn’t know, but if it was him then she was prepared to deal with the consequences. 

She doesn’t take a cab on her way to the police station. She can’t pretend that she’s not on edge with adrenaline pulsing through her entire body. She can’t sit still and act like she’s not about to do what she’s going to do. So she walks. She walks and lets the anger that she’s feeling flow through her entire body. She needs to remember her anger and how it feels; it’s the only way she’ll make it through all of this. With that intense anger pulsing through her, she can’t fathom how the ground isn’t cracking under her feet.

She’s only made it two blocks whenever a black Camaro stops in front of her. She’s about to run away from it, not trying to get held back by anything, when a head pokes out of it and she sighs at its familiarity. Her first thought is that he’s the last person she wants to see right now, but maybe some comfort from another person can calm her down.

“Going somewhere, Betty?” Chris says as he unlocks the door. “I can give you a ride.” She doesn’t even hesitate before stepping inside of the car. For once, she’s completely happy to see the cop. He’s the exact kind of person she needs to be with right now. He can protect her and take her to the station. 

“I know who’s behind everything,” she tells him once she buckles in. 

“Oh yeah?” He asks, eyebrows raising in disbelief. “How’d you figure that out?” 

“It’s Cheryl Blossom.” The words sound unreal to her, she almost can’t believe then. A part of her wants to be so wrong, but the evidence was right there. “My agent.” 

“Ho-ly shit.” Chris whistles. “Do you need me to take you to the station? I’m off duty right now, but I’ll go down there with you.” 

“Please,” she asks. 

Chris just nods as he starts taking off towards the direction of the police station. The two of them sit in silence and Betty tries to control the way her leg is shaking rapidly. The closer they get to the police station, the more nervous she feels. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous. It’s a cold, scary kind of nervous that has her heart racing in her chest. 

Chris drives straight past the police station when they get to it and Betty turns and looks at him in confusion. 

“Um, you just passed the station,” she tells him, not understanding why he’d do that. He knew it was there. He fucking works there. There’s no way he missed it. Chris doesn’t acknowledge her words at all and she looks at him warily. He’s facing forward, not letting on if he hears what she’s saying at all. 

“Chris, what are you doing? Where are you going?” Her heart stops as he continues to ignore her; his usual bright and smiling face is set in stone as he looks ahead and her body goes cold. 

“Chris, turn around,” she tells him, trying to make her voice sound strong. “Take me to the police station.” When he still doesn’t listen to her, she looks to see if she can open the door, but there’s no lock on it. Why isn’t there a lock on her door? “Take me to the station!” 

The last thing she sees is a hand reaching out to slam her head into the glass window, then blackness.

 

There’s a pounding in her head and it feels like her entire body is under water. She can hear faint voices around her but she has no idea what they’re saying. She tries to open her eyes, but it’s like they’ve been glued shut. She wants to yell out for help, but she can’t move. It feels like her entire body in paralyzed. 

It takes a few more minutes before she can finally open her eyes. She blinks them open slowly, the light in the room is nearly blinding and she hisses at the way it burns. 

“Well, well,” a voice rings out. She knows that voice. _Who is that?_ She wants to ask them for help, but her mouth can’t move. “Look who decided to join the land of the living again.” 

She tries to see who the person talking to her is, but her eyes are still adjusting. She can see long, brown hair and she thinks she’s looking at a girl. That doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. 

“Wake up, you bitch!” She grunts out in pain as something hits her in the stomach. “I wanna play with you.” 

Betty finally opens her eyes all the way. What she sees in front of her doesn’t make sense. Marisol stands over her, a gun in her right hand and she’s twirling it around as she smirks down at Betty. It’s Betty’s gun. She’s twirling Betty’s gun in her hands. What the fuck.

“Marisol?” She croaks out. “What’s going on?” 

“Can’t you guess? Or are you too stupid to even do that?” 

Her voice sounds snide and evil. Like it’s laced with poison. Betty hears her words, but she can’t understand them. Everything is still foggy to her and she’s too confused to understand what’s going on right now. 

“You were too easy, honestly,” Marisol laughs as she brings the gun up to Betty’s face and traces her jawline with it. “I told Chris we could have had you ages ago, but he wanted to drag it out; to scare you a little more.” 

As she starts to begin to feel coherent again, she realizes exactly what’s happening and she can’t believe it. 

“No way.” 

In retrospect, Betty realizes that probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say. This is further proven correct when Marisol backhands her across the face. She can’t help it, though. Of all the people Betty could have imagined being behind all of this, Marisol was nowhere even _near_ her mental list of suspects. 

She tastes the copper of blood flowing through her mouth and she licks at her bottom lip. 

“Do you know how hard it was to get into your circle? I had to, though. I had to put up with everyone’s superficial asses just for the chance that I might someday be in the same place as you, but it worked.” 

Betty remembers Chuck’s party and everything clicks at once. 

“It was you,” she says in incredulity. “You were the one who drugged my drink.”

“Bingo!” Marisol laughs maniacally. “Do you know how annoying it was to hear Chuck praise you? How beautiful you were, how sweet and kind Little Miss Sunshine was?” Marisol pulls a knife out of her back pocket and twirls it around in her hand, tauntingly, as she puts the gun away. “He seemed to really like you; the disgusting pig that he was. It was too easy to pin the entire thing on him.” 

“Why?” Betty asks, at a loss for words.

“Because I had to get you to trust me. I had to make it seem like I was on your side. I wasn’t supposed to drug your drink. I was just supposed to befriend you, but I wanted to have a little fun. I wanted to scare you a little bit.” She walks closer towards Betty as she continues to twirl the knife around. “I wonder if Chuck would think you were so beautiful if I were to fuck up your pretty little face right now. Should we find out?” She picks up the knife and brings it towards Betty’s face, but before she can do anything, another voice rings out in the room. 

“Enough.” 

Almost automatically, Marisol drops the knife and steps away from Betty. Betty would feel a little relieved at all of it, except that the person who got Marisol to stop happened to be Officer Chris-fucking-Matthews. He walks down the stairs in a pair of jeans and nothing else. His face looks just like it did in the car, completely stoic. The smile that framed his face earlier has disappeared without a trace.

“Chris?” Betty asks. Marisol whips around at that and hits her in the face again.

“That’s enough, Marisol.” Chris lashes out at her. “I don’t want you messing up that pretty face. It’s worth millions you know.” 

“Why are you doing this?” She asks him, looking at the man that she had just trusted with her life a few hours ago. Or minutes. She isn’t sure how long she’s been out. 

“Oh, Betty,” Chris bends down and runs his fingertips along her cheek. She tries to pull away from his touch, but it’s no use. There’s nowhere for her to go. “Do you know the story about the boy whose family didn’t want him?” He pauses and looks at her expectantly and that’s when she realizes that he genuinely wants her to answer the question.

“No,” she spits out, glaring at him. 

“Don’t worry,” he smiles at her, “I’ll tell you _all_ about it. You see, once there was a boy with no parents. That’s not really the sad part, of course.”

She glares at him coldly. “Of course not. How could it be?” 

He ignores her snide comment and continues. “Tons of people don’t have parents, no biggie. The little boy used to wonder what happened to his parents, why they were no longer in the story, why he couldn’t live with them anymore. He used to stay up late and think of different kinds of scenarios. Had his parents been smart scientists that died in a lab explosion? Had they died protecting their country? Had they been important socialites that passed away in a car accident on their way to a dinner with the president? The little boy would stay up late, thoughts of his parents flowing through his mind.” Chris walks away from her and to the other side of the room. 

If he were _anyone else_ , Betty would be heartbroken. Sad childhood stories usually get to her, but right now she couldn’t possibly give less of a fuck that he grew up without parents.

“No one ever told him about his parents, you see, so he had to make up all these stories. It was the only piece of them he had left. So the little boy bounced from foster home to foster home for a while. Sometimes the families were nice, but that wasn’t usually the case. Most of the times he was with a family that had too many kids to try to worry about the runt of the litter. It wasn’t until he was ten years old that he finally found a family with the mayor of a small town in South Carolina. At first the boy thought he had finally lucked out, that he had finally found a family that would love him. He couldn’t have been more wrong.” 

Chris turns back to her and his voice loses the playful storyteller gimmick he’d been using so far. 

“No, the boy had to deal with an abusive asshole who decided to beat on him and his adopted mother all the time. If he thought the foster families were bad well, this family took the fucking cake.” 

Betty’s mind whirls at his story. What does this have to do with her, why does this give him a motive to do what he’s done? And _why_ her?

_Wait._

A mayor? Why does that sound familiar to her? 

“The boy dealt with all of this, though, because he liked to believe that his family was looking down on him being _so strong._ He thought that nothing could ever really be that bad, not as long as he had his parents looking down on him. It wasn’t until he was eighteen years old that he found out that all of that was bullshit. His parents weren’t dead, they just didn’t give a shit about him. They had decided to give him up before they even got to know him, like he was a piece of trash.” 

“What does this have to do with me?” Betty finally asks, getting sick of the story. 

“Did you know that the family decided to have another child? Two of them in fact! And guess what?” He laughs loudly, an ugly cackle that scares her. For the first time since she’s woken up, she feels pure terror flow through her body. “ _They kept them!_ Can you believe that?” 

Betty shakes her head. 

“They kept them even though they couldn’t be bothered to keep their first born son.” Chris just shakes his head in mock disbelief. “At first, he didn’t care. He didn’t care whenever he was beaten to a pulp by _some thug_ with a tire iron. And only because he was with a girl. He just needed a pick-me-up, and she fit the bill. What a horrible crime it is, to get laid. Right?” 

Betty’s blood goes cold. The story with Jughead… the reason for his assault charge. It had been Chris at the party that night.

“You sick fuck,” she hisses out in disgust. “She was a little girl! How old were you? Twenty-two? Older? You deserve to rot in hell.” Her head snaps to the side as Chris reaches out and slaps her. It stings, but she doesn’t let it discourage her. He can hit her all he wants. She’s not going to break in front of him.

“I’m sick of this story,” Marisol says randomly. Betty had forgotten all about the other girl. “Get to the good part.” 

“The good part,” Chris says with a smile. “The good part is that he found one of those sisters out in Hollywood, making a name for herself. And that’s when he thought, ‘ _Why should this little girl, who’s never worked for something a day in her life, get this glamorous life?_ ’ She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t go through half of the things he had. So guess what? He decided he was going to take it all away from her.” 

“It was only pure coincidence that Jughead Jones happened to be part of the story as well!” Chris smiles like he’s actually really fucking happy about it and Betty wonders how she could have missed how evil this guy was. “I mean, imagine this boy’s luck! He gets to kill two birds with one stone! I mean, sure he had to go out of his way to dye his hair that way he wouldn’t be recognized but it seemed to all work out in the end.” 

She looks at his blonde hair and only then does she see the brown roots growing in. That must have been why Jughead didn’t recognize Chris. He must have looked so different from the young kid he once was. The bad feelings that Jughead had always felt towards Chris made sense now. He might not have recognized Chris, but his conscious sure did.

“What are you saying?” Betty asks, voice shaking, even though she knows exactly what’s going on. She just doesn’t want to believe it. 

“Are you that stupid?” Marisol snorts. She walks over behind Betty and kicks at something that Betty can’t see. The sound of a muffled groaning floats throughout the room and Betty tries to turn her head, but it’s no use. 

“Come on, sleepyhead!” Marisol sings out. “It’s time to wake up and join all the fun!” Then Betty hears the sound of a fist colliding with skin, and Marisol screams loud enough to make her wince. “Wake up, you son of a bitch!”

The sound of wheels rolling fill the air and Betty screams out whenever she finally sees who Marisol had been talking to. 

The brunette girl pushes a wheeled chair in front of Betty. Betty keeps screaming as she look at Jughead who’s sitting on the chair. His neck is cut just like it had been in the picture she’d gotten in the box. That’s not all that’s wrong with him. His eyes are bruised and he’s shirtless with a single, clean cut line across his chest. Marisol cackles as she takes in the look on Betty’s face. 

“He’s such a pretty boy, I didn’t want to ruin his face. I had to play with him a little bit, though.” She drags the knife across Jughead’s nipples and Betty screams out for her to stop. She’s not actually cutting Jughead, but the sight terrifies Betty in a way that nothing ever has before. Marisol is holding all the cards right now. 

Jughead’s head rolls from side to side before finally blinking his eyes open just like Betty had earlier. Once he sees her, his eyes widen and he tries to say something but his words are muffled by the tape that’s placed over his lips.

“Shh,” Marisol coos at him, running her fingers through his hair in a way that Betty has countless times before. 

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Betty yells out at her. This only seems to egg Marisol on as she turns and smirks at Betty. 

“Jealous, are we? There’s no need for that.” Marisol clicks her tongue before leaning down and pressing her cheek against Jughead’s. Betty feels sickened. It’s not out of romantic jealousy, this whole situation has her feeling like she might actually throw up. He begins to breathe harder and Betty looks at him, at a loss for what to do. 

“We’re all friends here.” She watches as Marisol turns her face and kisses Jughead on the cheek, maintaining eye contact with Betty the entire time. 

“Marisol, stop antagonizing them.”

Chris places a hand on Betty’s cheek and cups it as he looks down at her almost lovingly. 

“Hello, baby sister,” he says gently. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)
> 
> I know a lot of you guys are going to have questions about Cheryl. They will all be answered in the next chapter.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter because my amazing beta, Ten, said it'd be better to cut it off where I did. ;) You'll see why. 
> 
> TWO MORE CHAPTERS LEFT, GUYS.

The words echo back at her deafeningly. If she hears them one more time in her mind she might just die. Or go deaf.

_Hello, baby sister._

Baby sister. 

She looks at Chris, studying him properly. Can this even be true? Could he really be her brother? He did look like her...somewhat.

“I don’t understand,” she says as she looks at him. “Why did you send me all those weird messages? If you were my brother…” she trails off as she remembers the biblical passage he had sent her when everything first started. It said that if a man and woman laid together...something about marriage. 

Why would he make it seem like he was interested in her romantically if he was _her brother_? The entire thing sends chills down her spine. 

“I didn’t want you to be like all the other girls in the industry,” Chris says with a sigh. “You’re my baby sister, after all.” 

“But now you want me dead?” None of this makes any sense to her but he smiles all smug as though she’s in kindergarten and doesn’t know how to add one plus one. 

He strokes her cheek again. “I was trying to protect your virtue. I didn’t want any of those guys taking advantage of you, but don’t you see? I have to be the one to kill you. I’m the only one allowed to hurt you.”

“Why?” She whispers out, eyes finally watering. She hasn’t cracked yet, under the pressure of the situation, but damn is she close to losing her mind. “If I’m your sister then why would you want to hurt me?” 

“Because I’m the only one with a good reason. You didn’t work for a thing in your whole life. You don’t deserve all of this special treatment.” His eyes harden. “Why did they keep you but not me? They ruined my life but gave you a perfect one so now I’m going to take away the thing they love: you.” He nods at her like it makes all the sense in the world. 

She’s been studying his features this entire time, trying to see how they look alike. He has brown roots poking out underneath of his hair, but her and her sister have always been known for their beautiful blonde hair.

“Your hair is brown. I’m a blonde. _My_ parents both have blond hair.” She knows she’s grasping at straws here, but she desperately wants this to not be true. 

“Did you sit through science in high school, Betty?” He spits this at her as though she’s stupid. “Dominant and recessive genes. Mommy dearest isn’t a natural blonde. Surprised?”

_Since when?_ It seems he’s got an answer for everything and she feels herself deflate. 

“But Cheryl?” The things she heard over at Cheryl’s house, she didn’t think that up by herself. She knows what she heard. She knows what she saw. “Is she in on this too?” Was everyone against her? Everyone she ever thought she could trust? 

There’s a loud laugh that rips her away from her thoughts. She wants to retreat into her mind, to hide from the torment, but she can’t.

“Oh, you poor deluded soul,” Marisol says with a smile. “Cheryl might be the only real friend you ever had. That bitch decided to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. She had all your mail forwarded to her house so you wouldn’t have to deal with any unexpected packages. Her reasoning at the post office was that she _loved_ you like a sister. And she fights like a bitch. We might just have to deal with her after we’re done with you. No survivors and all that bullshit.” 

Her mind reels. Cheryl had her back? So that entire confrontation at the mansion, Cheryl was genuine? 

Betty feels her walls crumble a little more. This entire time Cheryl had been on her side and now, because Betty had acted impulsively, the redhead could be in danger and she was as good as dead anyway. Then she remembers the day at Whole Foods and she looks at Marisol with a glare.

“You killed Veronica,” she seethes. “Why?”

“That bitch had it coming,” Marisol hisses as she walks towards Betty, “talking to me the way she did. If that privileged skank would have just kept her mouth shut then she’d still be alive. That was pure impulse.” 

Betty can’t help the tears that leave her eyes. Veronica didn’t have to die. She should still be alive right now, but all because Betty trusted a random psycho bitch, she was dead.

“Why are you even doing this?” She spits at Marisol venomously. “What’s your part in any of this? Are you my long lost sister or something? Is this one big family reunion?” 

Marisol glares at her. “No, sweetie. I’m with him.” Betty watches in disgust as Marisol walks over to Chris. The brunette wraps her arms around him as she brings his face down to hers, and begins to make out with him. They’re putting on a show and Betty understands why they’re together; two psychos made for each other. 

“I do what he asks me to do,” Marisol says when she pulls away from Chris. “When he told me he wanted to torture America’s sweetheart, I couldn’t think of anything better. He knows how much I love him and I’d do anything to make him happy. And Veronica? That was just a plus.” 

How could she liken her best friend to what, a self esteem boost? 

“You’re sick,” Betty whispers out. She doesn’t know what else she can say right now. There are too many thoughts flowing through her mind and no way to let them out without getting a bullet in her brain.

“Perhaps, but as long as I come out on top, I really don’t care.”

Marisol walks away from Betty, taking Chris with her, and for the first time since she’s been in the basement, she completely focuses on Jughead who’s still sitting across from her. The tape on his mouth won’t let him talk but she mouths a simple ‘I’m sorry’ to him. If she would have gotten anyone else in the entire world as her bodyguard, then Jughead never would have been discovered by Chris. He’d still be living his life somewhere and he’d be safe. 

Jughead just shakes his head, trying to tell her not to worry; not to be sorry. He pulls his arm up as much as he can, like he’s trying to show her something, and Betty sees that he’s still in the handcuffs from the police station. She looks at him in confusion, not understanding what he’s trying to tell her right now. 

They just sit there and stare at each other. They can’t move, their bodies are bound to the seats they’re in, but Betty can’t look away from him. She’s trying to memorize every part of his face. If this is truly the last time they’re ever going to see each other, then she wants to die with the memory of his face fresh in her mind.

“I’ve had enough of playing nice,” Marisol says as she walks back into Betty’s view, “let’s have some _real_ fun.” 

The blonde screams out as Marisol hits her in the leg with a tire iron. Pain erupts throughout her entire body and Jughead screams from behind the tape, thrashing around as he tries to get free. 

“It’s all very poetic,” Chris hums as he walks over to Jughead. “The irony of it all. You decided to attack me with a tire iron one night, so now you get to watch the same thing happen to your girlfriend.” He bends down and places his hands on Jughead’s face, forcing him to look at Betty who’s crying out as Marisol hits her over and over again. “How does it feel? To know that you can’t protect her? You’re not even twenty feet away from her and you can’t help her. You just have to sit here and watch her get beaten. That must suck; to be that useless.” Chris lands a punch on Jughead’s cheek and Betty watches in horror as his head snaps to the side. Chris doesn’t stop though. He keeps on punching Jughead repeatedly until Jughead stops bringing his head back up. His black hair falls over his eyes as his entire body goes limp. 

“Stop!” Betty cries out as Chris brings his fist up again. “Leave him alone! You want me dead, fine, kill me, but please. Leave him alone.” 

“You’ll both die tonight, I’ve got some vengeance that needs to happen, so he’s not getting out of anything.” Chris says, but he forgets about Jughead as he walks over to her. “In fact, let’s make a game out of it! One of you gets to watch the other die, how fun is that?” 

Betty cries, curling in on herself. She can’t watch Jughead die. She can’t. 

“I say we kill her and let him watch,” Marisol tells him.

Chris looks like he's thinking it over before he finally nods. “Untie her.” 

Jughead shuts his eyes tightly at that and Betty knows that he's thinking exactly what she had been thinking earlier. He can't watch her die. It's an impossible situation. 

Marisol is quick as she unties Betty and then grabs her roughly by the shirt to drag her over to Jughead. She dumps her in front of him and Betty falls at his feet. She looks up at him and his eyes are watery and pained as he looks at her. 

Marisol went off to get something, so she's not around them right now. Betty’s legs are too weak and bruised from earlier; she can't even try to fight back right now. She knows that even if she tries, the odds won't be in her favor. She’ll just make everything worse. 

“I love you,” Betty whispers. It's the first time she's said it and she doesn't miss the way Jughead’s eyes widen at her confession. She hadn't meant to say it, it just came out but she realizes that she means it completely. She does love Jughead. She loves him in a way that she's never loved anyone before; that she’ll never love anyone in ever again. 

Dying can't be that bad, she thinks to herself as she looks at him, as long as she's looking at his face when she finally does. If his face is the last thing she sees before she dies, she thinks she’ll be okay. 

“I love you,” she repeats again and a tear falls from his eyes at her words. She reaches out and touches his leg with her hand. She closes her eyes as she finally feels him underneath her. Her hand shakes as she realizes this could be the last time she ever touches him. Slowly, she moves forward and places a kiss on his knee. “I always will.” 

“How sweet,” Marisol says as she yanks Betty’s hair back and presses the cool metal of a gun against her temple. “Too bad you'll never get to hear him say it back.” 

“Be quick.” Chris orders. “I don't want her to feel any pain.” His words are ironic but Betty doesn't have time to joke about it anymore. All her energy has left her body. There is no way out, no miracle, no sudden magic plan that’s going to drop into her lap. She’s trapped, they both are. That’s the reality of it all.

She locks eyes with Jughead, begging him not to look away from her. She needs to see his eyes. They’re crazed as he looks back and forth between Betty and Marisol. 

She has so much she wants to say right now. She wants to tell Jughead sorry. She wants to tell him that she wishes they had more time, because God, she really does. She wishes they had met in any different way. She likes to think that they’d always find each other; in another version of reality, in another time. It feels like her and Jughead were always inevitable. She just wishes their ending would have been different. 

“I know he said to be quick, but I wanna play a game.”

Betty wants to scream out at the words. She’s sick of Marisol and all her games. If she’s going to die then she just wants to die. She doesn’t want the other girl to drag it out.

“I only have one bullet in here,” she says as she jams the gun against Betty’s head as if the blonde didn’t know what she was referring to. “If I shoot three times and you’re still somehow alive, maybe I’ll let you live a little longer.”

“You might want to say bye to your little boyfriend,” Marisol laughs out as she presses the gun harder against Betty’s temple. “You never know which one will be the one to do the job.”

Betty doesn’t say bye. She refuses to say bye. She knows this won’t be the last time she sees Jughead. Whether it’s in another life or another world, she’ll find him. She’ll always find him. 

“I love you,” she mouths to him. She needs to say it as much as she can before she can’t say it any longer. 

She closes her eyes, scared. 

She hears the click of the trigger but nothing happens. Marisol giggles to herself and Betty sits completely still, frozen in fear. 

“Lucky girl! Let’s go again!”

Betty begins to pray in her head. She hasn’t prayed in years, but right now on her knees, she prays to anyone listening. 

She waits for the next click to come, for the inevitable bang of the gun to sound. But it never does.

_”What the fuck?”_

Betty opens her eyes and watches as Jughead swings one hand forward, knocking the gun out of Marisol’s hand. She looks at him closer, not understanding how he got out of the handcuffs, when she sees one of his hands is cradled against his side. _He fucking broke his thumb to squeeze his hand out of the cuff._ Betty slides forward while Marisol is distracted by the gun that’s now across the room, and pulls at the rope around Jughead’s ankles, freeing him quickly. 

He rips the tape off his mouth with his hand that isn’t injured and he looks at her. 

“I--.” 

Before he can finish his sentence, a gun goes off. 

Betty watches as his eyes go wide. She looks at him in confusion and then in horror as he crumbles in on himself, knees buckling from underneath him. 

“Jughead?” She screams out, reaching forward to catch him in her arms. “Jughead!” She pulls her hand away from her back and that’s when she feels it; a sticky, wet liquid on her palm. “No,” she whispers out as she lifts up her hand and sees the blood on it. “No, no, no, no…” 

Jughead looks over at her and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out but blood. 

“Jughead!” His eyes close slowly and his head falls to the side.

“Jughead, Jughead, Jughead,” Marisol mimics. Betty looks up and sees her standing, holding Betty’s gun in her hand while the small revolver is still on the ground across the room. She must not have wanted to waste any time. “Is that all you know how to say?” 

Chris comes running down the stairs. Betty hadn’t even known that he had left. 

“What the fuck happened?” He yells out as he sees Betty holding Jughead on the floor. 

“He wanted to get brave so I had to teach him a lesson.” 

“Well then,” Chris seethes. “Game over, Betty.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to the last *actual* chapter. Up next is the epilogue. :)
> 
> Beware of violence, badass!Betty, and a lot of hand holding. Get your tissues ready!
> 
> Thank you to Ten. This story would have never made it this far without you.

It’s like the entire world stops as Chris says the words. 

If she had any ounce of a fight left in her, it all goes away as she looks down at Jughead’s lifeless body. He’s still breathing but his hands are hard-pressed to his side, trying to stop the blood. He feels helpless. Defeated. 

It’s her worst fear come to life and it’s coming to life _right in her arms_.

She doesn’t even have time to mourn over him before Marisol grabs her by her arm and yanks her up off of the ground.

“You’ve ruined my plans,” the brunette tells her as she drags her away from Jughead’s body and towards the back of the room. Betty doesn’t understand why she can’t just die next to him. That’s all she wants right now. 

Betty looks around, trying to find Chris, but she can’t. Why does he keep going upstairs? Marisol sees her wondering eyes and she smiles as she realizes what Betty’s doing. 

“Chris? He’s working on something.” She looks at Betty like she’s expecting her to ask what he’s working on. When Betty doesn’t say anything or even acknowledge the statement at all, Marisol sighs in mock annoyance. “You’ll like his surprise. Remember when I told you that we’d deal with your little redheaded friend next? An anonymous tip might have told her that you’re here.” 

“Cheryl? Cheryl knows I’m here?” It gives her hope for all of about five seconds. If Cheryl knows that she’s here, then she’ll definitely come over here to try to make things better with her. She’ll end up dead, just like everyone else is. 

“She will soon enough. How long do you think it’ll take her to show up?” She looks over at Jughead. “Better question, how long do you think it’ll take _him_ to bleed out?” She smirks as she looks at him, but Betty doesn’t advert her eyes away from Marisol. She needs to feel something other than defeat. If she looks at Jughead, she’s going to feel all the misery that’s been coursing through her body hit her full force. But if she keeps looking at Marisol then she feels the anger she’d been feeling earlier come back to her. 

“Does this get you going?” Betty asks, growing angrier and angrier at the way Marisol is smiling over at Jughead. She doesn’t have a lot of time. She knows she doesn’t have a lot of time; she needs to act fast and she needs to do it _now_. “Torturing people? That some kind of pastime for you?”

Marisol looks thrown off by the words for about three seconds before her attention is back on Betty. 

“You’re a sick bitch,” Betty says again. “You’re doing this because you think it’s what Chris wants? I can assure you he’s just using your insane ass. Look at you,” she makes a show of looking up and down at Marisol in disgust. “How could he ever love a girl like _you_?” 

For the first time since they’ve been in the basement, Marisol’s guard seems to slowly fade away as she focuses on what Betty’s saying. Truth is, Betty’s talking straight bullshit right now. She has no idea what kind of girl Chris likes. Hell, Marisol probably is his dream girl with her murdering tendencies, but it seems like Betty’s hitting a soft spot and that’s all that matters.

“You probably remind him of the worst part of his life,” she continues, venom in her words. “You’re just bringing him down. You’ll kill me today and then you’ll kill Cheryl and whoever else you think needs to die, and then what? You really think he’s going to stay with you? I’m betting he kills you next.” 

“Shut up!” Marisol roars as she lunges out and pistol whips Betty across the face. It hurts, but compared to the pain she’d felt at seeing Jughead collapse into her arms; it’s nothing. In fact, it only fuels her anger and energy. She’s on an adrenaline high and knows she’s got a knife into her fragile exterior, she just has to keep twisting it and Marisol might just cave. 

“Shut the fuck up! You don’t know anything!” 

“You’re right,” Betty says, “I don’t know anything. But I do know one thing.” Marisol looks at her, their faces are inches apart. Betty forgets about the pain in her legs, the pain in her head, the pain in her _heart_ , and she reaches out with her arm and wraps it around Marisol’s neck, pulling the burnette against her chest in a chokehold. 

She presses her lips against Marisol’s ear as the other girl tries to wriggle out of her grip. It’s no use though, Jughead taught her this and he taught her well. 

“If I die,” Betty whispers into her ear, “then so do you.” 

She tightens the hold on Marisol’s neck as much as she can until see sees her fingers slowly let go of the gun, _Betty’s gun_ , and it falls to the floor.

Marisol goes limp in her arms and Betty lets go of her and stands up. She didn’t make her pass out; that wasn’t the plan. Instead she watches as Marisol starts coughing, trying to get her breath again. Betty doesn’t hesitate as she picks up her leg and kicks the other girl in the face. Her legs might be weak, but it still does enough damage. Blood trickles out at Marisol’s nose as she cries out. 

Betty picks up the gun from the floor before her eyes catch sight of the revolver still on the ground; the one that Marisol had tried to play Russian Roulette with. Her own gun still in her hand, she walks over to the revolver and picks it up before walking back over to Marisol quickly, before she can restabilize herself and fight back.

“Let’s play a game,” Betty seethes as she walks closer to Marisol, taunting her. The other girl is crawling away from her, voice still hoarse as she tries to scream out. Betty kicks her in the face again. “If I shoot once and you’re still alive, _maybe_ I’ll let you live.” 

She leans down and places the gun against Marisol’s leg, holding the other girl in place. She doesn’t give any warning before she pulls back on the trigger. A loud pop sounds out and Marisol yells out as the bullet goes straight through her leg. 

“Would you look at that?” Betty sighs before looking at Marisol’s face. “Looks like you didn’t luck out and guess what? I want you to look at me before you die. I want my face to be the last thing you see.” 

Marisol does look at her, tears running down her face as she cries. Her eyes are full of hatred and Betty knows that hers must mirror the exact same thing.

“You lose,” Betty says gently before she switches out the revolver for her own. She places it between Marisol’s eyes and pulls the trigger.

She watches as her entire body crumbles to the floor. 

The sound of Chris’ footsteps come down the stairs and Betty puts her gun in the back of her jeans, not wanting him to see it. 

“Did you take care of her?” He asks, not looking up to see that it’s that’s Betty still alive instead of Marisol. “The other one is coming. She believed the fake text.”

He finally looks up when he reaches the bottom on the stairs. At first it seems like he doesn’t really understand what it is that he’s looking at. He looks at Betty, standing tall with her chin up; bloody and bruised, but not beaten. Not dead. And then he looks at Marisol, otherwise perfect if not for the bullet hole in her head. 

“You want me dead?” She asks. “Then kill me yourself, you fucking coward.” 

“Betty Cooper,” he laughs. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

The words piss her off. How dare he stand in front of her and act like he even knew the first thing about her?

“That’s because you never knew me and now you never will.” 

Chris just narrows his eyes at her before he runs after her. Betty knows that she’s not going to be able to fight him this way. He has at least a hundred pounds on her, but she needs to try. 

He throws her down to the floor where she lands with a dull thud. Pain erupts in her back but she doesn’t focus on it. She tries to slide away from him, but he’s on her before she can even move a foot away. He hovers his entire body over her and Betty recognizes the position he’s in. It’s the same position Jughead had showed her whenever he’d been training her to defend herself against the potential stalker. It was supposed to be for rape defense, but she doesn’t think that’s what Chris is going for. 

The shrimp technique, that’s what it had been called. 

A cold fear goes through her as she tries to figure out what Chris’ plan is right now, if he’s not going to rape her but he has her in this position... Her question is answered when he places his hands around her neck. 

_She needs to act fast._

Chris brings his chest down and Betty’s arms shoot up straight, trying her hardest to keep him off of her. Her head is starting to feel light and she knows that she doesn’t have enough time. As her head begins to feel more fuzzy, she tries to remember what Jughead had told her to do in this moment. 

_“Show me you can defend yourself,”_ his voice whispers in her ear. 

She remembers the way Jughead had smelled as he had leaned against her. She remembers the feeling of his sweat dripping onto her chest. She remembers his thighs---. _His thighs._ The defense mechanism clicks back in her mind and suddenly, she’s acting without thinking.

Betty pulls her arms in as though they were going to be put on the opposite shoulder, but instead her right hand grabs his left wrist and her left hand grabs the right and she crunches her whole body in, lifting her upper back from the cold floor and loosening his grip enough for her to worm back a couple inches. 

Quickly, she puts her right leg on Chris’ thigh. He doesn’t look bothered at all by her actions until she places her left leg onto his other thigh and pushes back. She pushes with all the energy she has left.

Jughead watches the entire thing through lidded eyes. He’s been in and out, but he can always hear her voice. Her voice is the one thing that’s keeping him from completely giving into whatever darkness is coming for him. 

He can see the shape of her on the ground fighting back. She’s a beautiful blonde angel in the otherwise inevitable black abyss that he’s slipping into. He watches as she follows the techniques he had taught her so long ago and a sense of pride flows through him just like it had the first day at their apartment. 

At the time, she had thought of him as an arrogant jerk who acted like he was too good for the world, but that couldn’t have been more untrue. He knew that Betty, the girl who’d become his whole world, was too good for him. All along, he knew that Betty Cooper was a force too pure for the world. He felt lucky that for some reason she picked him. Of all the people in the world, she chose him to love and as he feels himself drifting off, he holds onto that. He can feel his lips curl up, fulfillment swelling in his chest even though he’s barely getting oxygen in his lungs at this point.

Somehow, dying full of pride, knowing she could protect herself, just looking at her didn’t seem so bad.

Chris looks taken off guard, and just as he’s about to reach out for her again, Betty kicks him in the face and slides away from him before jumping up and onto her feet. 

She coughs, trying to get her breath back, but she doesn’t hesitate to pull the gun out of her back pocket. 

“Game over,” Betty tells him before pulling the trigger back and shooting him, watching as his body jerks backward. It’s not enough though, she pulls the trigger again and again and again until there’s no more bullets left.

Jughead smiles faintly, or at least he thinks he does. Maybe he doesn’t smile at all. Maybe he’s already dead and all of this is just in his head. He doesn’t feel like fighting to keep his eyes open anymore, he doesn’t feel like he has to protect her -- he knows damn well she’s going to be okay, with or without him. The thought put him at ease, and the pain in his side seems to stop ripping through him.

Either way, he closes his eyes for good this time. 

Betty did it. Betty survived, just like he knew she would. 

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she hears a loud scream. She looks up and sees Cheryl standing at the bottom of the staircase. 

“Betty?” She yells out. “What the fuck happened?” 

Betty doesn’t answer her. Instead she runs over to Jughead and searches for a pulse. She nearly passes out from relief when she feels one; it’s faint, but it’s there. 

“Call 911,” Betty yells at Cheryl. The redhead doesn’t hesitate to do exactly as she’s told and while she does that, Betty runs her fingers through Jughead’s hair. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” she tells him. “You hear me? You’re not leaving me. You’re going to live and we’re going to leave. We’re going to go anywhere in the world together, but _you are not leaving me_.” For the first time since this whole disaster started, she feels truly hysterical. He _can’t_ die. He can’t do that to her. 

She’s screaming for Cheryl to call an ambulance, to call for help, to call for anyone, and she is. But somehow Betty feels a little better yelling for her to hurry up already. 

Suddenly, Jughead’s eyes open slightly. He’s not looking at her, at least not that she can tell, but the sight is enough to give her hope.

“Juggie?” She cries. “Hey, can you hear me?” 

His eyes open a little wider and then she knows that he’s looking at her. 

“I--.”

“Don’t talk,” she tells him, not wanting him to waste any energy that he might have.

“I’m… so… proud.” The words are spaced out and it takes a while for him to say them, but Betty completely crumbles at them. “And I… love you.” 

She looks at him, tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes, and smiles. 

“I love you… Betty Cooper.,” he says again before closing his eyes. 

“Jughead, no!” It feels like a slap in the face. She’s heard of famous last words, but she can’t bear the thought of it. She needs him to live through this. She can’t lose him, not like this. 

She holds Jughead until the ambulance finally comes. 

It’s just her luck that Officer Ruiz is the one who comes to the scene of the crime. 

He looks at the scene in equal parts astonishment and horror. Betty walks over to him and glares at him. 

“Here’s the evidence you need,” she says, voice full of animosity, “we’re done here.” 

 

Her injuries aren’t as bad as they could have been. She does have a broken leg, but it’s not severe. Three broken ribs and a mild concussion. All in all, she’s blessed. 

That’s what the hospital staff keep telling her at least. 

She isn’t allowed to see Jughead for the first day that they’re in the hospital. He undergoes surgery and then he’s resting. He’ll be okay, they keep telling her. She knows that he’ll live, but she’s not sure that he’ll be okay. She doesn’t think any of them will ever be okay again. 

Cheryl stays by her bedside the entire time. 

“I’m so sorry,” the redhead had told her with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry that you could have thought that I’d ever do something to hurt you.”

Betty tells her to stop crying. She doesn’t want anyone to cry over her anymore. She’s done with crying.

“Thank you,” is what she tells Cheryl. She doesn’t elaborate on what she’s thanking her for, but she doesn’t think she’d have enough time too anyway. There are so many things she wants to thank her for, but right now she wants to thank her for just being with her. Cheryl seems to get it as she just nods and holds Betty’s hand. 

 

Reggie comes by later whenever Cheryl goes to get something to eat for them.

“Highschool crush, huh?” Is the first thing Betty says whenever she sees him. She remembers their talk at the charity banquet; about the new girl he’d been seeing.

“She was,” he blushes. Reggie doesn’t blush often, it’s only the second time she’s ever seen him do it. Both times have been when he was talking about Cheryl. “I’ve known her a long time.” 

“She wouldn’t like the spotlight,” Betty says, agreeing with the reason why he’d told her they were taking things slow. Cheryl liked to work behind the scenes, she didn’t like to be up front and center stage. “I’m happy for you two.” 

“So you and Donnie Darko, huh?” Reggie asks with a soft smile. “Cheryl filled me in on everything.” 

Betty had come clean and told Cheryl the entire truth about her and Jughead. She deserved the truth after all. She was one of the last real friends that Betty had.

“I love him,” she whispers out as she looks at Reggie with glossy eyes. He nods and reaches out to grab ahold of her hand. 

“I know,” he tells her. “I called this, you know. The night at the charity event; the way he was looking at you… I knew there was something there.” 

Betty just smiles. 

 

Her mother flies out too. She’s distraught and in tears and it takes a while for Betty to calm her down, but she finally does. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” She asks her mother. She wonders how it must feel to know that it was her mother’s _son_ who did this to her.

“I was ashamed that I’d given up him. I didn’t want you to hate me or think less of me.” 

“I could never think that, mom,” she says as she holds her mother’s hand. “And I don’t want you to think I blame you for this either. You didn’t make him the way he was.” 

“Come home with me,” her mom begs. “Even if it’s just for a little while, please come home.” 

Betty doesn’t answer her back. She doesn’t know what to do. 

 

She’s finally allowed to see Jughead two days later. They tell her that he’s awake, but he’s very weak. She can’t stay for long, five minutes at most, but it’s okay. She doesn’t need a long time. She just needs a few minutes. She remembers back in the basement where she had wished that her and Jughead had more time, and somehow five minutes sounds perfect.

He’s awake whenever she enters his room, but he looks so tired and brittle. It’s a side of him she’s never seen before and it breaks her heart, but it also reminds her of how strong he is; of how strong they both are.

“Hey you,” she says with a smile as she walks over to the side of his bed, sitting in the chair there. Jughead just looks at her, too weak to even smile her way. 

“Hi,” he croaks out. His face is still bruised, but it’s not as fresh as it had been before. Their wounds will heal, she has to remind herself of that. 

“I’m so sorry,” she tells him because she has to. She can’t help but blame herself for all of this. 

Jughead shakes his head. 

“I’d do it all over again,” he says faintly. “If it meant we’d end up here.” 

“Yeah?” She asks, lips wobbling. 

He nods. 

“My mom came,” she tells him. “She wants me to go home.” 

Jughead looks at her. “You should.” 

“Come with me?” She asks him. “Let’s start over.” 

“I’d follow you anywhere,” he whispers out, flipping the palm of his hand over. Betty gets what he’s trying to do and she reaches out and holds his hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says. 

There isn’t a light at the end of the tunnel for them, but there’s a silent promise here in the room. A promise of tomorrow; of a future. They made it. Together.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this story and who commented and left kudos on it. Your kind words are what made me want to update and finish this story. To those of you who have been here since the beginning; thank you for sticking with me throughout all my crazy cliffhangers. I love ya'll so much.
> 
> To Ten, this story never would have made it here without you cheering me on and gassing me up 24/7. Hope you're ready to be my beta forever. 
> 
> We've come to the end of this journey. 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy. <3

It’s that time of the year again, for the news to broadcast her struggles and pretend they understand the pain she’s been through. For some reason, Betty can’t tear herself from the screen, so she watches the anchor read a speech that sounds plastic and pre-written.

_“Today marks the five year anniversary of the death of Veronica Lodge. Veronica Lodge was one of Hollywood’s most beloved actresses; starring in countless films and box office hits, such as End of Tonight, Hollow’s Creek, and The Darkness In Us. Her life was cut short at a tragic twenty-two years old when she was brutally murdered in her Los Angeles home by Marisol Hemmings. Hemmings was one half of what would later be known as the duo in the Betty Cooper Scandal, along with Christopher Cooper, otherwise known as Chris Matthews._

_Veronica Lodge is remembered through her movies as well as through Archie Andrews’ who was her longtime boyfriend before the incident.”_ Betty can’t help but scowl. _It wasn’t an incident, she was fucking murdered. Say it, you coward._

_“His new album, titled _Veronica_ , is a complete tribute to the late actress and I have to say, it’s one of his better albums. The lyrics are both painful and beautiful, you can see how much his work has grown since her passing, and how much he truly loved her. Andrews’ is currently taking a break from singing and is traveling the world, something the young singer said Veronica had always wanted to do with him when they both had breaks._

_As for the other person targeted in this scandal: Betty Cooper, former supermodel, found herself front and center of a stalking situation that quickly turned deadly.”_

The TV turns off and Betty turns around to see Jughead standing behind her, remote in his hand and a frown on his face. 

“Do you think they’ll ever stop talking about it?” Betty asks him. They always talk about it, every year; acting like they knew Veronica. They post pictures of her face everywhere and have marathons of her best movies. They always show _End of Tonight_ , a movie that Betty and Veronica had once dubbed her worst work yet. 

Betty never missed a marathon. 

At first when she’d see a picture of Veronica, she’d go into a frenzy; yelling and screaming and then nothing. She’d sit and stare at nothing for hours, not moving and not talking. And that pain would bring back other things. For a while, she couldn’t even cope with loud sounds, especially anything closely resembling a gunshot. During a particularly bad incident, Betty was curled up on the kitchen floor, whispering Veronica’s name catatonically. 

That’s when Jughead told her that it was time for her to sit and talk to someone. 

He knew this wasn’t like his gunshot wound, not like the surgical scar on his lower back. This was something invisible, internal, something he couldn’t see and fix, so he had to make sure she did was was right for her to heal from the entire disaster.

She started seeing a therapist in Riverdale. It took her a long time to open up about everything, but she finally did. One day, a year after everything, her therapist told her to try to sit through a movie of Veronica’s, a funny one, one that would take Betty to a time when everything was okay.

So she did. 

She watched one of the earlier movies that Veronica had starred in. It was a teen comedy about a highschool girl whose life was a complete mess and how she ended up becoming the most popular girl in school. It was cliche and trashy and perfect. Betty didn’t cry while watching it like she thought she would. Instead she smiled and laughed. Sometimes it felt like Veronica was right there with her, a hand on her arm, laughing along with Betty. Veronica always believed it was important to laugh at yourself sometimes.

“Probably not,” Jughead answers her. “But you don’t need to watch that right now. Jellybean’s expecting us over at the high school.” 

Betty nods, remembering. 

Jellybean is Jughead’s little (well, not so little anymore) sister, and a permanent fixture in their new life in Riverdale. Betty often freaked out over how alike the two siblings were, but she welcomed it. Jellybean was a godsend to her. She had been through things, just like Betty and Jughead, and she was living proof that your past didn’t have to define who you were now. Betty adored her. 

Jellybean had done something good with all of the terrible things that had happened to her. She had written a book, a self-help kind, that talked about her experience that night with Chris back in high school, her mother’s death, her father’s alcoholism, and how she was able to overcome everything even though times seemed tough. She was strong; she was part of the reason why Betty hadn’t crumbled and fallen apart a long time ago. 

She was giving a talk at Riverdale High today and had asked Betty and Jughead to attend. 

“I only got the hour off,” Jughead says as he hands Betty her coat. “We don’t want to be late.” 

Jughead works as a cop. It’s really the only job he could see himself doing, he had told her once upon a time. He said he wanted to protect people in a way that no one had protected Betty when she needed it most. He also jokingly mentioned that if the officers of the law weren’t going to do their job, someone had to and it may as well be him.

Betty was somewhat the same. She couldn’t let go of her modeling, as much as she wished she could. For all the bad memories she had tied to it from the last year she’d been in Los Angeles, she still loved it. Modeling was something she had always loved, it was _her_. She only did small events in Riverdale now; charity appearances in New York and sometimes, if she felt like she could, she would fly to Los Angeles and do a few shoots. It wasn’t like before, it didn’t take up her entire life, but it was still there. 

“Cheryl and Reggie are coming with the baby,” Betty tells him as they walk out of their house and to the Range Rover parked outside. “They really wanted to hear Jellybean speak and they miss us.” 

Cheryl had stayed a constant in her life, to which she was very thankful. Her therapist had told her that people tended to either grow closer or drift apart during traumatic experiences. Betty was blessed to say that her and Cheryl, and her and Jughead, all grew closer. Even Reggie had snuck his way into Jughead’s good side; Betty and Jughead had even been named the Godparents of their baby boy; Jason Mantle, named after Cheryl’s late brother. 

They had all lost someone. Sometimes she wonders if maybe that’s why they were all able to stay so close; they understood the pain and suffering each was going through. 

The ride is full of a comfortable silence. Jughead holds her hand the entire way just like he always does. He toys with the ring on her wedding finger and Betty smiles. The diamond sparkles as the sunlight catches it and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen something so beautiful. 

They arrive to the school soon enough and Betty’s not surprised to see that there seem to be a lot of people already there. 

They’re late; of course they are, and they walk into the gym and stand off toward the side. Jellybean is in the middle of talking already, and Jughead takes a hold of Betty’s hand as they listen to her speak. 

“For a long time I blamed my actions for what happened that night with Veronica. I blamed myself for what happened with my sister-in-law and brother. I thought to myself, what if I had just pushed the issue with Chris harder? What if I had demanded that he be locked up? It was irrational, but all I could feel was shame. Shame at myself for not having stood up for myself all those years ago. Shame for letting him walk back into the world, just so he could do something far worse to others. Shame at the cops for letting it be swept under the rug.”

“But as time went on, I realized that no one was to blame for what happened that year except for one person. And that person was Chris Matthews; _Chris Cooper_.” Jughead squeezes Betty’s hand tightly, but it doesn’t really hurt anymore. She knows who Chris was. He was her brother; her brother that she had shot and killed. 

Sometimes she still has nightmare about that night. She can’t really look at guns the same way anymore. Even now, as Jughead wears his work belt around his waist, he keeps the gun on the opposite side of her. She’s not completely healed from that night, she doesn’t think she ever will be, but she’s working on it. Understanding that Chris was her brother and accepting that is part of working on it. Instead of crying when she turns at night to face Jughead, looking at the scar from his surgery still lining one side, she traces patterns on it until she falls asleep. She’s not 100% over it, but she’s getting there and Jughead is proud of her. His hand tightens around hers and they continue to listen to Jellybean speak.

“The main point that I want to get across here is: Don’t let yourself be silenced. If someone puts you in an uncomfortable situation, then you make sure that you speak out and you let yourself be heard. The same thing that happened to you, could happen to another person. Speaking out could ultimately save a life. Do not let people look at you and tell you that you are making things up or that your problem isn’t big enough to deal with. You make sure that you get justice in the end; however you need to. Sometimes justice is demanding proper action from officers of the law, but other times it’s just -- it’s just taking time to talk to someone about how you’re feeling. Asking for help from people who love you. That’s justice too, if you want it to be.” 

It feels like she says the last part directly towards Betty. 

For a while after Betty had killed Chris, people deemed her a murderer. This stopped her from getting jobs for a period of time, but she’s thankful the tabloids hadn’t followed her to Riverdale. She always felt like this small town was a world in itself, and most people never leave.

Her leaving to be a model was the exception. But to the press, it didn’t matter that he had tried to kill her and Jughead. They just looked at her and saw a woman who killed a man “without a fair trial”. Betty knows better, though. There’s no such thing as a fair trial. She did what she had to do and she’d do it all over again if she needed to. 

Jellybean continues her speech, talking more about her parents and this time it’s Betty’s turn to squeeze Jughead’s hand. 

Jughead had been shocked when he found out that his father had gone to rehab. He had went to go see him over in South Carolina and when he came back, he told Betty all about it. His father was in a good place now. He’d been sober for about four years. Betty didn’t meet him until Jughead had deemed his father stable enough, but when she did, it was amazing.

FP Jones was a kind man, he was a good man. He was smart and funny. He was a little bit broken, but he had a heart full of good. He was just like Jughead. He was there at their wedding, standing alongside Jellybean. It was one of the happiest days of her life. 

Jellybean finishes up by answering a few questions and then the speech is over. 

The herd of kids flows out of the gym doors, a couple of them wiping at stray tears with a brash hand, but Betty and Jughead stay behind. 

Jellybean is standing in the center of the gym still, but she’s holding a redhaired child in her arms as she talks to two people. 

“JB!” Jughead shouts as he jogs over to her. Jellybean turns around and grins as she sees the both of them. 

Betty didn’t know her growing up, but she looks at the beautiful young woman standing in front of her and she feels a sense of pride. 

“You guys made it!” She squeals out. 

“Yeah, like thirty minutes late,” Cheryl snips from behind her but there’s a smile on her face. Betty runs and engulfs her in a hug. She hasn’t seen Cheryl in a few months and she’s missed her like crazy. 

“Jughead was late getting home!” 

“All work and no play,” Reggie sighs as he brings in Jughead for a hug. “When you gonna let up, man?” 

“Well, I’m sorry not all of us can throw a football for a living.” 

Reggie gasps and holds his chest in mock hurt. “Keep talking like that and guess who’s not going to the Superbowl for free.” 

“If you even make it to the Superbowl.”

“Oh, that’s it.”

Reggie takes off after him, Jughead laughing the entire time and it feels like they’re a bunch of kids in high school again. 

“Think they’ll ever grow up?” Jellybean asks with a smirk. 

“God, I hope so,” Cheryl sighs. “It’s easier to take care of a newborn baby than it is to take care of Reggie.” 

Betty disagrees. She hopes that Jughead stays this young and this happy forever. She hopes that he’s always as happy as he is right now in this moment. 

“You know, Betty,” Cheryl says in that tone of voice that means she’s up to no good, “Louis Vuitton’s looking for someone to be the new face of its brand. If you’re interested.” Cheryl is still her manager. That’s completely true, but somewhere along the way she stopped holding so much authority and became more of a friend. But it’s still her job to inform Betty of the requests brands put up to her.

Once upon a time, Betty might have leaped for joy at the offer. She would have dropped everything and anything for just the chance to get the job. Louis Vuitton could wait, right now she had to go untangle Jellybean from the disaster that was Reggie and Jughead as they begin to chase her around the gym. She places a hand onto the growing bump on her stomach, Cheryl smiling at her, and she realizes that there are so many more important things in the world. 

She’s staring at a few of them right now.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes? No?  
> I'm so hyped to write this, so I hope it was okay!  
> Anyways here's my [tumblr](http://camelotskingz.tumblr.com). Let me know what you think. :)


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